Shadow of the Dark Fortress (Part 2) by Triggy

Rating: PG13
Genres: Action & Adventure, Mystery
Relationships: Harry & Hermione
Book: Harry & Hermione, Books 1 - 5
Published: 28/07/2004
Last Updated: 24/12/2004
Status: Completed

Voldemort builds a terrible fortress christened the "Xanthius" to project more terror
to the Wizard World. ACT 2: "The Xanthius" -Lucius hatches a plan to retake Harry back to
Xanthius for Voldemort using an mysterious asset at Hogwarts. Who or what could it be? Adding to
Harry's worries is helping Hermione with her different troubles while dealing with the invasion
of wizards in Hogwarts suspected to be Death Eaters and part of the plot to capture him again for
Voldemort.




1. Prologue
-----------



This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various
publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and
Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is
intended.

**Shadow of the Dark Fortress** **Part 2: The Xanthius**

*By Triggy*

March 2004

Prologue

Voldemort's newly built fortress was called the “Xanthius”. Like Hogwarts, it was
unplottable. It stood on a mountainous rocky island in the middle of a large lake, near one of the
wizard world's dragon reservations deep in Scotland. It was also sometimes referred to as the
Dark Fortress by Voldemort's followers due to its dark blue walls and the very powerful dark
magic that protects the place, marked by a constant gloomy, cloudy, and lightning-filled sky. It
was here the Dark Lord planned to rule the wizard world with an iron fist, and it was expected
among his inner circle that soon, wizards who opposed Voldemort shall also fear the name of the
fortress alongside his name.

Aside from his servants, Death Eaters, and minions, no one had ever seen Xanthius and lived to
tell the tale. Except for the most unlikely of all survivors Harry Potter and three of his friends:
Ron and Ginny Weasley, and Hermione Granger. They have been here just days before, face to face
with the Dark Lord himself. Despite being boasted as impenetrable and inescapable, Harry and his
friends miraculously escaped, returned to Hogwarts, and warned the wizard world of its existence.
This was not supposed to happen and this in itself angered Voldemort immensely. Fortunately most of
the wizard world seemed to be unbelieving that Xanthius really existed, but this didn't make
Voldemort feel any better - his secret had been revealed prematurely.

The old clock chimed twelve midnight in a very lonely section of this seemingly centuries old
castle. Had it not for the panicked screams echoing around its walls, it would have been the only
sound present in the still night. A flurry of activity had suddenly taken place at this usually
quiet time of the night: running footsteps, doors banging, shrieks of terror and pain, and eerie
growling and mirthless laughter. Something dreadful was happening.

Owls perched on the large foyer's horizontal flagpoles were startled as the 20-foot silver
doors separating it from the receiving room opened with a loud bang. A man, draped in white robes
drenched in fresh blood and his mask askew, limped away from a towering figure following him
closely with a wand. He fell over painfully to the cold stone floor, gasping for breath, and
crawled further away from his attacker. A group of similarly dressed men cautiously followed the
figure that had a face with a frightening likeness of a snake, and a set of glowing eyes that
provided a dim red light in the fire-lit foyer.

“CRUCIO!” yelled the figure, and the man screamed in intense pain. The spell lasted for only a
few seconds, but he might as well have been brought to the brink of death. He panted, feeling
relieved although the deep pain inside him lingered. “M-My Lord…” he gasped.

“You have failed me for the last time, Daedelus!” growled Lord Voldemort. “Harry Potter has
escaped me again! The plans that I have painstakingly conceived for months to kill him inside this
castle was all for naught!!! This worthless build of yours is supposed to be impenetrable and
inescapable as you have boasted…”

Some Death Eaters smirked behind their masks as they gleefully watched Daedalus being tortured.
Voldemort had sensed this and turned his furious stares towards them, and their smiles faded at
once.

“M-my Lord,” Daedelus repeated, clutching his broken rib. Voldemort slowly gazed upon him.

“The dragon came from nowhere… it-it blanketed my imps with fire that was unsurvivable… and the
boy and his friends rode off with it…”

“CRUCIO!” Voldemort commanded, and Daedelus' speech turned back into screams. “You naive
fool! You are ever so arrogant to think that nothing from the air will ever try to attack
Xanthius!!! I do not tolerate such shortsightedness from my own Death Eaters!”

“P-Please forgive me, My Lord! Please!” Daedelus pleaded. “I-it will never happen again!”

“Yes, it won't happen again…because you won't live another day!” Voldemort shouted.
Daedelus shook his head, realizing that he was done for, and no words came out from his mouth.

Voldemort returned his gaze to the Death Eaters standing behind him. “My Deatheaters,” he
addressed while his red eyes looked at them one by one. “I will show you what I, Lord Voldemort,
will do to those who fail me! Your greatest feats will never be good enough to lessen my
wrath!”

“Yes, my Lord,” muttered the Death Eaters in unison while Daedelus whimpered on the floor.

“Lucius! Knott! Bring this worthless fool with me to the Pit!”

“No, no, please my Lord, have mercy!” Daedelus cried. “Not the PIT!!!” He was however bodily
carried out of the foyer and deeper inside the castle. He was too weak and in too much pain to
fight back.

The journey to the center of Xanthius, the fortress Death Eater and Ministry of Magic official
Daedelus Lowrie planned and helped build for Voldemort, took more than ten minutes through
seemingly endless corridors. Anyone who was not familiar with the fortress' layout would surely
be lost in a matter of seconds. For Daedelus, who knew what he was in for, it was a torturous
eternity.

When they arrived all the Death Eaters present were already positioned at their designated
places in the amphitheatre, looking down at a central stage made of stone and a steel platform.
Deadelus was thrown painfully atop the platform - Lucius and Knott got up to their places beside
Voldemort, who was the only one sitting down on a large throne. Besides the crackling of the
torches, Deadelus' heavy breathing was the only sound that could be heard in the whole
chamber.

“My Lord…” he weakly said, attempting to take a few steps back to try to get off the platform,
but more than one Death Eater raised their wands and pushed him right back to the center.

“Thank you, my servants,” said Voldemort.

“It is our duty, my Lord,” said the Death Eaters that made the spells with a hint of
satisfaction in their voices.

“Any final words before you die, Deadelus?” said Voldemort coldly.

Knowing he now didn't have a chance in the world to survive this, Deadelus' emotions had
suddenly changed. For a fleeting moment, he didn't feel afraid anymore -rage and true contempt
towards Voldemort coursed through him this time. Racking up all the courage Dealelus could muster,
he took the opportunity to spit what he had to say to his now former master. This was his only
chance for repentance, though no one would ever know that he had.

“You were never a good master, V-vvvvvv…” he said, struggling and failing to say the name. “I
regret all the things that I have done for you! I rebuke you, you evil TYRANT!” A majority of the
Death Eaters around him swayed, not believing anyone could say that to what they consider as the
most powerful and terrible wizard of all.

“That is enough!” Voldemort said, and with a wave of his wand, the platform on which Daedelus
stood fell open in half, revealing another dark chamber below, and the man plunged unto it. As he
stood up to regain his footing on the sandy ground below, Nagini (Voldemort's faithful pet
snake), came out from its sleeping niche towered and over him. Void of a wand Daedalus was now
defenseless against this powerful creature. He backed off against the chamber's walls, hoping
to at least gain some distance away from the menacing snake, but he knew this was all an act in
futility, as he had absolutely nowhere to go.

In a split second Nagini struck him. Deadalus Lowrie, with a promising career as senior Auror
and double agent to the Dark Lord, was dead. Nagini swallowed Deadalus whole, and he was now seen
from outside as a lump slowly going deeper down along the length of Nagini's body. Moments
passed in eerie silence for there were no cheers among the Death Eaters who witnessed this. The
sight was so disturbing from above, and they were not sure if they would meet the same fate as
Deadalus' in their own future.

“You all have been warned, my servants,” Voldemort said as the platform closed. “Fail me and you
will suffer the same terrible fate. Now, everyone leave the chamber - except you, Lucius.” All the
Death Eaters obeyed without any word and left, closing the huge silver doors behind them.

Lucius Malfoy, who was very apprehensive all night to begin with, was now alone with Voldemort.
He moved in front of him slowly, dreading to be the next one in line for punishment from his master
that might or might not come.

“How can I serve you, my Lord?” Lucius said, managing to maintain a steady voice.

“Are you still my faithful servant, Lucius?” said Voldemort calmly, slowly lifting his head
toward the elder Malfoy. Those red glowing eyes didn't make anybody feel good.

“Ever since - and forevermore, my Lord.” Lucius looked up again to see his master, who then
seemed to have deep thoughts.

“That will do,” Voldemort said shortly. He stood up and lifted Lucius chin with his cold, long
fingers. “I have another task for you - I want nothing less than Harry Potter on that platform and
into that pit, do I make myself I plain?”

“I understand my Lord,” Lucius said, feeling relieved of being important once again to the Dark
Lord. “Any means necessary, my Lord?”

“Yes…Yes, any means necessary,” said Voldemort tentatively, nodding his head slowly. “Do what
you have to do, as quickly as you can. He has evaded me so many times. I cannot tolerate this
travesty any longer, Lucius. No fully-grown wizard has survived my death sentence and yet I
can't kill a puny 15-year old wizard-to-be?” He paused and breathed deeply as he sat back on
his throne to say something difficult.

“I should have killed him on the spot when he was here last, my faithful servant,” he continued,
gripping the arms of his throne tightly with his scaly hands. “Yet I was so optimistic he could not
get away, and the prospect of having him as an unwavering servant and the dire effect it would have
caused against those who oppose me clouded my judgment. So… uncharacteristic and foolish of
me.”

Voldemort sighed. “I believe Potter must die so I may live and reign forever - yet he had
slipped away again…Yes, this time he must die for sure, and my Nagini will kill him for me this
time. He deserves to feast on the flesh of my mortal enemy.”

Lucius did not dare to comment.

“Go, and fulfill my wish,” Voldemort said finally, standing up. “Report back to me with your
plan at noon tomorrow.”

“Your wish is my command, my Lord,” replied Lucius solemnly, and bowed off. He strode out of the
room, opened the tall silver doors, and closed them behind him. There were several Death Eaters
outside the chamber looking at him expectantly, hoping to be told what the Dark Lord was thinking,
but Lucius ignored them all and walked all the way to his personal quarters to start planning a new
plot.

Not until he locked the doors to his quarters did he take off his mask to wipe his heavily
sweating face and breathe deeply. He was quite certain back there he was the next in line for
punishment from Lord Voldemort, but he felt quite fortunate that the Dark Lord still had faith in
him despite the failure of his recent action. *When was that, just seven days ago?* he asked
himself.

It seemed incredible for him to have plotted a plan just a few days before with similar
objectives like he's about to design after this - his old plan ultimately failed because of the
incompetence of a wet-nosed candidate for Death-Eatership. Still, it was the Dark Lord himself who
called off the plan in the most inconvenient time in the middle of the operation and therefore he
was not responsible for whatever happened afterwards, he thought. He did bring Harry Potter as
ordered, albeit indirectly. Lord Voldemort punished him for his “failure”, but he knew very well
that's how his master worked - blame everything on somebody else and nobody ever dares to
complain. Perhaps Daedalus was right.

It has also been one hell of week for Lucius. Just two days ago the Ministry of Magic summoned
him to a highly publicized hearing about his alleged plot to kill Dumbledore. He was suspected as
the writer of the mission order found in his late beneficiary's (Jack Chadron) possession, but
that was just about it. He was only a suspect. In the end he was cleared of all charges due to lack
of more solid evidence, and no less the Minister of Magic Cornelius Fudge quickly approached him to
apologize as if the Ministry couldn't stand on its own without the Malfoy's financial
backing. Such wonders how regular contributions of gold could do, and Fudge dreaded to give it all
up. The conditions will still be right to hatch a new plot. To have the most chances of success
this time, however, Lucius had to be less visible. Even though it was inconceivable for him what
the Dark Lord will do if he fails, he also couldn't afford to have his noble family's name
tarnished again in the wizarding world just in case he survives this war, and Voldemort
perishes.

His thoughts then came back to the nosy old Auror named Olga Gargarin. She, along with some
veteran and green-horned Aurors in the London bureau, were the reason he had been investigated with
only a letter to Jack Chadron as proof. It seemed to him that this Auror was bent on at least
smearing his name if he couldn't land in Azkaban, and he made a mental note to deal with her
sooner or later.

From what he heard from his own mole in Ministry of Magic, Gargarin was also hot on Cassius
Wallace's trail. Wallace was a Ministry Auror now suspected as a Death Eater after that debacle
in Hogwarts. Of course, he really was a Death Eater, and Lucius thought it was imperative to
contact him before he got caught. Right now he had serious planning as expected by the Dark Lord,
and he was determined not to be unsuccessful it this time. All he needed was just a few key people
to do his work for him, and this time he knew very well who they exactly were.

----

*A/N Hello, I'm back in Fanfic mode!*

*First of all I wish to thank my good friend Belinda for giving me permission to adopt a key
point of the plot from her fanfic published years ago in Mugglenet!*

*Also thanks to all who have read and reviewed “Fugitives or the Ministry”, well after the
last day of updates, especially to the reviewer who gave me a little lesson in present, future, and
past tenses (yeah!). I hope you all like this new fic, though criticism is welcome. I'm
following my own storyline for the characters therefore some points may not correspond to what is
written in the real books.* *Thanks to the most recent reviewer the month of June,
2004!*

*Author's note to new readers: if the story does not make sense this early, it's
because this is the sequel for my other two action-adventure fanfics “The Auror and the Oarling”
and “Fugitives of the Ministry”. I hope you could take the time to read these fanfics (okay, I know
this is a shameless plug, but how can I resist?)* *“Auror” was my very first complete fic so
it's a little rough around the edges. Please read and review these stories if you have time.
Thanks!*

*I'll be back soon with an update!!!*

-->



2. The Looming Storm
--------------------



**Chapter 1**

**The Looming Storm**

Harry Potter sprang awake on top of his homework at his study table in the Gryffindor Common
Room - he hadn't realized it but he had dozed off for a few minutes just after he decided to
start doing his homework in earnest. Just across the table was his best friend Ron Weasley, who
still had detention to serve after homework (because of his recent work in disguising Neville
Longbottom's toad Trevor into a chocolate frog). He muttered something indistinguishable under
his breath while writing a thirteen-inch essay on Animorphus Squibs; his quill seemed to be at the
breaking point and would give in at any moment.

“Ron, I think you need to take it easy there,” said Harry, yawning. He dipped his quill and
started writing his essay. “You're practically writing your essay on the desk surface.”

Ron banged his own quill in the inkbottle, splattering some blue liquid on the desktop and
smearing his parchment. “I don't believe them - I just don't believe them!”

“Who?”

“The professors!” said Ron, tearing up the parchment with gritted teeth. “We've almost been
murdered by You-Know-Who just a week ago and they give us a whole two week's of missed homework
like we were just out strolling around the park or something…” He threw all the bits and pieces of
parchment everywhere in disgust.

“That's why they're giving us so much work - we got to catch up with the rest of our
classmates,” said Harry's other best friend Hermione Granger, who had just returned from her
Arithmancy class. She sat down beside Ron. “They kept classes going while we were out there…”

“They've got no consideration whatsoever!” interrupted Ron.

Hermione paused for a moment and then stared at Ron. “Why, what did you think they'd do for
us when got back, roll us a red carpet?” she said.

“Yeah, that's right, something like that,” replied Ron, looking away dreamily. “It would be
cool to have some time away from schoolwork…a real long time away, huh?” Hermione made a face not
like hers out of sheer revulsion.

“Elves feeding us with grapes sounds good,” added Harry, but he abruptly stopped grinning upon
seeing Hermione throw her sharp stare at him.

“Yeah, cool!” seconded Ron. “While we're asleep.”

“You two are so full of it!” Hermione said in disbelief, but she could not hide her bemusement
from her two best friends, who at the moment had wild fantasies about being revered by the whole
school as heroes. Hogwarts had celebrated for their victory at least once, of course, when they had
returned to the Great Hall for the first time since they made an unscheduled excursion into the
unknown. Harry and Ron liked it and kept looking for some more! Hermione found that enormously
nauseating.

Regaining her self-control Hermione then said “Have you ever thought what happened to us back
there was nothing compared to what other wizards had probably experienced against Voldemort?”

“No, it's because they're dead,” said Harry just as Ron took his fingers off his ears.
Ron had recently developed a good sense to avoid hearing Voldemort's name just in time.

Hermione paused for moment after realizing that. “Well, I admit we're lucky - I mean
you're lucky because I wasn't there - but that doesn't make us any more special, you
know?”

“Correction! That makes us even more special!” said Ron, his eyes brightening. He pushed a new
sheet of parchment in front of Hermione.

“What's this for?” said Hermione. “Oh no…”

Ron did his darndest to look cute in front of Hermione. “Just twelve inches, please? I'll do
the last inch - for real!”

“After arguing with me? Uh-huh, no way! You got to be taught a lesson - you do your own essay,
Ron!” said Hermione irritably, pulling out her *Standard Book of Spells, Grade 5* from her bag
and hiding her face from Ron's sight. Ron returned to mumbling under his breath while rewriting
his essay.

Harry smiled, shook his head and returned to his homework. He was actually glad that things were
slowly returning to normal after their last terrible encounter with Voldemort in Xanthius. Well,
for him, Ron and Hermione arguing and bickering all the time were considered normal. He didn't
like it before but strangely he had thought of it now as a blessing. He couldn't imagine life
without two of his best friends, and it got to a point where he believed they had already lost
Hermione forever, which would have been devastating for them. Fortunately lady luck seemed to smile
at them all day in that fateful episode in Voldemort's fortress, and the dragon that took her
away was none other than Hagrid's former pet, Norbert. Similarly, both Ron and Ginny's
courage also helped saved their lives that day in Xanthius.

The whole thing didn't come as an accident, and it was the result of a well-plotted
conspiracy to kill Dumbledore, bring disgrace to the Weasley family, and deliver Harry to Voldemort
at the same time. Harry and his friends were quite certain beyond any form of doubt that Draco
Malfoy's father, Lucius, had been the mastermind of it all under orders from Voldemort. His
beneficiary, Jack Chadron, the recent and now deceased Head Boy was the main instrument to put that
plan into motion. He was killed when he tried to redeem himself for giving lots of injustice to the
people he respected too many times. Harry and his friends still bore the inner scars of their
encounters with the Death Eaters and Voldemort, but those have not dampened their determination and
their hope to live on with a relatively normal life. The whole affair also strengthened their
already strong bond, but sometimes old habits die hard, as Harry saw in front of him in the form of
his two best friends back into their usual love-hate relationship.

Ron suddenly gathered up his things and stood up.

“Where're you going?” said Hermione, frowning. “You've not even started your essay
yet…”

“Detention, remember?” Ron groaned. “I'm expected to serve detention in Dumbledore's
office in a few minutes. I'm helping him re-catalogue his books. He says it was a good thing
most of them fell off from the shelves - he was looking for a real good reason to do that for fifty
years - can you believe that?”

“Oh, that's great,” said Harry absently; Hermione looked away with a wide grin. (She had
caused those books to fall off on the late Head Boy and his Death Eater accomplice in order to
escape them.) “I mean, that's too bad, Ron… but great. I'm sure it won't be bad doing
detentions for Dumbledore, and it was supposed to be Filch giving you the dirty work, right?”

“Yeah, I suppose,” said Ron uncertainly. “But no matter how you look at it, it's still
detention. See you guys later.” He slouched off towards the portrait hole and got out of sight.

“Classic Ron,” Harry said closely to Hermione. “I suppose he expects us to cry buckets for him
in sympathy every time.”

Knowing Ron, Hermione laughed. Later she stood up after returning all her books in her bag. It
was now Harry's turn to ask, “Hey, and where're you going?” He was kind of enjoying being
alone with her.

“Prefect duty, Harry, and a meeting tonight to help the faculty select a new Head Boy,” she
replied brightly. “The first years are little monsters, but they seem to behave while I'm
around…”

“Planning something what to pelt at you, more like it,” said Harry, wearing a mischievous look
on his face.

“Let them try,” she said naughtily. “Look, I wish I could visit Hagrid with you later - we
haven't met ever since before I slipped away to Hogsmeade - could you say hi to him for me and
ask if he really caught all those galloping unicorns at all?”

“Sure,” said Harry, remembering his meeting with Hagrid. “He'd be disappointed without you
two, I wager.”

“Yeah, I know,” Hermione said, with extreme disappointment. “I wish I could see the look on his
face after he learns about what Norbert did…”

And later, if she had indeed been around, Hermione would have become busy mopping Hagrid's
floor. After Harry told Hagrid the story in his hut, he drenched his gigantic hanky with happy
tears, squeezing it occasionally to take the excess off. “Oh, Norbert, he makes me so proud…imagine
helping Hermione find yeh and bring yeh all to safety,” Hagrid sniffed. He ran over to his closet
and took out a whole blanket expecting to cry the whole night. “Oh, my very own Norbert!!!”

“And he has a new girlfriend - we named her Sarah,” said Harry happily, setting his rock cake
aside. He knew better than to try every little condiment Hagrid offered him. The last time he
accepted one, his jaw ached for a week.

Hagrid again howled with delight. “Norbert's a teenager now, too! Bless him! If he'd ask
to raise his family here in me hut soon, I'd agree in an instant.”

Harry slightly choked drinking his tea. If ever that would have happened, he didn't have a
clue how to keep two fully grown dragons away from being noticed by the whole school. Norbert as a
baby was big trouble enough aside from it being illegal to keep as a pet.

“Uh, can dragons do that, too?” Harry asked, looking up at Hagrid hoping that he was only making
it all up. Hagrid really believed all monsters could be human if they wanted to.

“Well, er, no, but it's Norbert…” Hagrid shrugged. “Harry, I'm happiest to see yeh here
back alive an' well, y'know. I've got te see Hermione `n Ron sometime, too.” Hagrid
patted Harry gently on the head, which caused the chair he sat on to collapse, and Hagrid
apologized profusely.

“It's nice to hear the whole story of wha' happened the last week from yeh, because
Dumbledore told me I was subjected to a memory charm an' I cudern't remember anything for
the last week,” Hagrid said while Harry massaged his own aching head and repairing the broken chair
with magic. “I din' believe it at first but it was Dumbledore telling me it happened…”

“How much don't you remember, Hagrid?”

“The whole affair, unfortunately,” Hagrid sighed. “And you said I warned yeh abou' Jack
Chadron, right?”

“Yeah, you did.”

“Then suppose' I did - not like me not to tell yeh abou' what I thought about him…”

“He turned out the way like you suspected.”

“Har, I've got in me a nose of a niffler, eh?” Hagrid said proudly. He blew his nose in his
blanket with a deafening snort. He got up from his chair and poured Harry's cup with some more
steaming tea.

“Yeah, I think you do. Oh, before I forget, Hermione's asking how the unicorns are doing,
Hagrid,” Harry said next. “She wants to know if you really succeeded rounding them all up back in
the paddock.” Just then, something white passed by Hagrid's window.

“So it's true I had my own unicorns then? That'd be great if it were…” Hagrid said
distractedly, snatching glances at a window and moved over toward it.

“Yep, Hermione said you did. Jack let them loose to distract you from helping her find out about
why Dumbledore wrote to you like she said.”

“Oh, so that's why there'd been unicorns comin' and goin' from the forest…”
Hagrid said as it dawned upon him, now looking out the window. Harry laughed thinking at how off
Hagrid was with the current events. “Anyway, I'm goin' to catch `em all soon, if I really
were herding them up fer lessons. Blimey, I got a lot to catch up…” Hagrid returned to his seat and
rubbed his forehead with his hand.

“And have you heard about Xanthius, Hagrid?” asked Harry carefully. “You know,
You-Know-Who's new fortress?”

“Oh, yeah,” said Hagrid, noticeably shuddering. “Dumbledore also told me about You-Know-What
yesterday. He was grim about it.”

“*You-Know-What?*” Harry repeated.

“Yeah, unfortunately I can' say the name, too, like anybody else,” said Hagrid, shrugging
again.

“Then I suppose this is what the rest of the wizarding world calls it now, huh?” Harry said,
torn between humor and disbelief.

“Well, sort of…” said Hagrid.

“What does that mean, sort of?”

“That's the problem, Harry,” said Hagrid gravely, shifting on his seat. “Dumbledore noticed
everybody else seems to want to deny it ever exists - people are tired of being scared of
You-Know-Who for years, y'know, and here now comes of another reason to be afraid of -
You-Know-Who's next terror weapon, a dark fortress of all things! You- Know-Who apparently
hasn't done anything with it yet but look how it causes quite a big impact now, if yeh look
closely. Wha's more, nobody even wants te call it You-Know-What as a matter of fact.”

“But I've seen it!” said Harry severely. “Ask Ron, Hermione, and Ginny. We were in and out
there… you believe us, don't you?”

“If you say yeh'd seen it, I believe yeh without question,” said Hagrid, smiling broadly.
“But the other problem is, is that only you lot had seen it, nobody else had, ar?”

”I see,” Harry said. This reminded him of his current situation where practically no one also
believed Voldemort's back. It seemed to make sense, he admitted to himself, because how would
anyone believe Voldemort could have built his own fortress if he wasn't back in the first
place? “Do you suppose Dumbledore warned the Ministry about it already?”

“Yeh, he might've,” replied Hagrid. “I'm not sure if Fudge is ready te accept that, if
yeh know wha' I mean. But if yeh ask me, I'd be a little happier ter know that You-Know-Who
had built You-Know-What at all.”

“Why's that?” asked Harry, baffled.

“Yeh see, Harry, the way I look at it, it's like a war between two camps: Hogwarts here
an' You-Know-What right there,” Hagrid said, dropping the idea of pointing the location of
Xanthius with his finger because, like everybody else, he didn't have a clue where it was. “An
imaginary line drawn somewhere, so to speak…”

“But Hagrid, look, we still don't know where to find Xanth - I mean, You-Know-What. How
could that be a good thing? Anybody could find Hogwarts - it's no secret if you know how to get
here - but Xanthius, it's a different story…”

“Well at least we know You-Know-Who could just stay in one place rather than moving about from
one unknown location ter another. S'Better that way, I guess. I know it's frustrating all
the same, but it seems that's all we have best at this time…”

“I guess that's right…” said Harry. He thought about Hagrid's point very deeply. It
seemed encouraging, but no matter how anybody would look at it, it didn't make the wizard
world's stand against Voldemort even much better. Voldemort roaming around without an address
causing mayhem was bad enough to start with, but with a secret fortress - it was unthinkable. “But
You-Know-Who could still go to other secret places where and when he wants to…”

Hagrid grunted, knowing that Harry was correct. “But I bet me hut Dumbledore's doing all he
can to find You Know What, at least…” he said, with a hint of uncertainty in his voice.

“Have you heard of any new attacks yet now that You-Know-Who's back?” asked Harry after a
few seconds of silence.

“Aside from killin' Cedric Diggory last year and the `mysterious' deaths of those Death
Eaters yeh faced off with, Harry, not yet,” said Hagrid with unease. “But now that You-Know-Who has
some fancy place ter hide in, I `spect we'll hear about new ones soon. I don' imagine him
fightin' the urge much longer to kill someone or create chaos…”

“If it isn't terrible to say this, I wish he'd do so very soon,” said Harry darkly;
Hagrid dropped his breath in surprise that Harry could say such a thing. “At least it'll be a
good excuse to slap Fudge and all other wizards who don't want to believe me back into
reality.”

“I think that's kind of drastic,” said Hagrid slowly, getting Harry's point, “but we
can' have it both ways, y'know.”

“I know, Hagrid,” Harry said, sighing, and standing up to leave. “I know…I'm sorry for ever
thinking that way. Well, I think it's time for dinner at the Great Hall so thanks for the tea
and rock cake.”

“Oh, yeah, thanks fer visitin', ar? If somethin's botherin' yeh three just holler
all the way teh my hut - yeh know you're always welcome here.” Hagrid beamed and attempted to
pat Harry once more on the head, which he fortunately dodged in the nick of time.

“I know you love me, Hagrid, but I'd rather not have another severe headache tonight,” Harry
said, laughing.

-o0o-

As Harry walked back halfway toward the castle he felt a light piece of pebble bounce off his
already aching head. Looking around to see who made it, his eyes caught Draco Malfoy and his goons
Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle following him from behind. Harry felt the usual surge of hatred
rise up from inside him each time he saw that pale and pointy face with the greasy white hair of
Malfoy. He has had too many encounters with him since their first year that he had made it a habit
to place his hands inside his robe pocket where his wand was, just in case.

“Oh, it's you,” Harry grunted, and kept on walking. “What do you want this time,
Snapperhead?”

“I'd be careful where I want to go from now on if I were you, Potter,” Malfoy sniggered,
shadowing Harry a few feet away.

“I'm so scared!” Harry mocked. “You've been saying that to me for, what - five years
now? And nothing happens, so shut up or put up, Malfoy.” He tried to pick up speed ahead before
he'd do something he'd probably regret later on.

“Now that the Dark Lord is truly back, and nobody believes you,” Malfoy pressed on as if Harry
hadn't talked back, “you'd only want to be with the people who you're *sure* to
trust.”

“Yeah, and I suppose it took you five years to figure out I had real friends, not baboons like
you got there,” retorted Harry. Crabbe and Goyle blinked stupidly upon hearing this and then
proceeded to brandish their fists in the air, trying to look menacing. “Ha, five seconds,
that's an improvement…” Harry muttered, walking his fastest to end his unpleasant meeting with
Draco. Malfoy always looked for ways to torment him, Ron, and Hermione even if he was making no
real sense at all.

“Have it your way then, Potter,” guffawed Draco. “Mark my words, trust no one, woooo!” Crabbe
and Goyle quickly returned to laughing beside Malfoy as if what he said was the funniest joke in
the world, though it was obvious they had not an idea in the world what that was all about.

It was little miracle for Harry that he had not lost his temper back there; he had a special
sensitivity on how people regarded his friends - Draco knew this was one of his weaknesses that he
always liked to take advantage of. Harry and his friends had been together through thick and thin
all these years. Who was Malfoy to lecture him about his choice of people? He was sure Malfoy
referred to anyone besides Ron and Hermione, whom he had been through thick in thin, and he had
trusted so much. Additionally, Harry had always felt he was blessed for being close to some of the
coolest people in the wizarding world: Sirius Black, Remus Lupin, his friends in Gryffindor,
Dumbledore, the Weasleys, and some Aurors particularly Olga Gargarin (the Bulgarian Auror who
helped him save Hermione's life from being consumed by an evil creature called an Oarling).
Though he accepted that it was a mixed bunch with some having blemished histories behind them, but
for him, they were the best people in the planet. He could not imagine any of them to be
untrustworthy.

“Draco was just pulling your leg, Harry, don't let him get to you,” said a voice inside him
with a striking resemblance to Hermione's, and he readily agreed it wasn't worth fuming
about further.

“Harry, what's the matter,” said Hermione, catching up from behind him inside the castle.
“You look furious about something - ”

“I had a little run in with Malfoy on the way here,” said Harry, exhaling deeply to release his
anger.

“Oh,” Hermione said anxiously, raising her eyebrows. “You didn't curse him, I hope…”

“Then, you can turn me in, prefect,” Harry joked as they both turned around a corner. “No, he
was just trying to make me think you're not to be trusted along with Ron, and everyone else -
he didn't say who exactly. Knowing that's how Malfoy works all the time, it's nothing,
really.” Harry then told Hermione about the rest of what Malfoy had said to him.

Hermione snorted. “As usual, he's not making any sense again, is he? Besides, what does he
know about friendship anyway? Like he's lucky he has pug-faced Pansy, big deal!”

“Yeah, I thought so, too.”

“Look, forget about it, Malfoy was just pulling your leg, Harry, don't let him get to you,”
advised Hermione.

“Funny, that's exactly what my mind's been telling me not a long time ago,” Harry
laughed. “And it sounds just like you, y'know!”

Hermione then playfully pinched and twisted a huge chunk of skin from Harry's back, making
him whimper in pain all the way to the Great Hall as she pushed him all the way there. Ron was
already eating his supper when they both arrived at their places.

“Sorry, I'm so hungry I couldn't wait for you two,” said Ron stuffily, with large chunks
of chicken flying off from his mouth.

“I thought you had detention,” said Hermione, revolted, and placing mashed potatoes and corn on
her plate. “And, Ron, when can you ever start learning good table manners?”

“This is probably the best detention anyone could have!” said Ron, ignoring Hermione. “I can
have breaks, can you believe that? What's better, I can do my work at my own pace. I've
been rearranging the same ten books for an hour and Dumbledore didn't seem to mind at all.” Ron
sat upright and acted out a good impression of Hagrid saying, “Great man, Dumbledore…”

“Then that defeats the purpose of detentions - he's being too lenient!” Hermione protested
passionately. “You're supposed to be punished, Ron! Puh-nished! How would that teach you not to
disguise Trevor as a chocolate frog anymore?”

In a split second, Hermione stood up.

“What, now going on a hunger strike, are you Hermione?” said Ron, sniggering.

“For *you*? No way, I'm hungry - but I'm going to talk to Dumbledore first about
you. He's here.” Then she walked away towards Dumbledore, who was selecting what to eat for
supper at his chair.

Ron's snigger vanished instantly. He looked at Hermione - open mouthed - as she walked away
and then to Harry, who was equally astonished how Hermione could be so sensitive again with the
rules. Ron glared at her darkly while she conversed with Dumbledore at the teachers' table. He
literally snorted hot steam out his nostrils when he saw the Headmaster pat her on the
shoulder.

“I'm going break her neck…” growled Ron as Hermione walked back to her seat. “Ohhhh,
she's got the nerve to…”

Hermione sat down with seemingly forced dignity; Harry noticed she looked slightly
disappointed.

“I bet you'll have a good gloat tonight,” said Ron indignantly without looking at her. “50
points to Gryffindor for making my life difficult; Fifty books a minute…”

Hermione seemed to be struggling with herself and said “Dumbledore says that not only you could
arrange ten books an hour, you could also do it with magic…”

Ron and Harry made loud whooping sounds while Hermione managed to give a little smile for them
amid her disastrous defeat and returned to eating her potatoes in silence.

“Thanks for the trouble, Hermione,” said Ron triumphantly. “I could even give you a kiss…” Ron
mocked bending closer to Hermione and she jerked back abruptly to avoid him, splashing Neville
Longbottom with the whole contents of his goblet.

“Yuck!” shrieked Hermione. “Ron!”

“Are you really going to stay in Hogwarts at Christmas, Harry?” asked Ginny Weasley, who was
helping wipe Neville's wet face with Hermione, just as Draco and his cronies went past them.
“I've been helping Professor McGonagall go around getting names of anyone going home and I
haven't seen your name in the list up to now. I mean, just about everybody's going home
this year despite…you know… ”

Harry almost completely forgot it was only few days before the start of Christmas vacation. It
was the first time he had not been looking forward to Christmas, because he had found out just
lately that Ron and Hermione planned to spend theirs out of Hogwarts. Privet Drive was out of the
question - he would rather be alone in Hogwarts for more than two weeks than languishing in his own
room with nowhere to go but the toilet. He had not asked Dumbledore if he could spend Christmas in
other places other than Hogwarts or Privet drive because he expected all along that Ron would be
staying with him like he had for the last four years. He felt slightly hurt that he and Hermione
had not told him about their plans.

“You could come to the Burrow with us, mate,” said Ron slowly. “Mum's going to be glad
you'd come…”

“Okay, that would be cool,” said Harry, now excited. “Let's talk about those later -
there's McGonagall - I'll let her know I'm leaving first.” Harry stood up from his
stool and walked over quickly to Professor Minerva McGonagall, the Gryffindor Head of House, who
was already sitting on her chair for breakfast at the teachers' table.

“Good morning, Professor,” said Harry merrily. “I just wanted to let you know I already decided
to spend Christmas with my friends and I'd like to be on the list, too.”

McGonagall smiled at first but turned serious when she said, “Potter, before I would allow you
to be included in the list, you need to talk to the Headmaster first. He personally instructed me
to tell you to talk to him when you volunteered to go home.”

Harry's smile flickered. It seemed to him at the moment that Dumbledore might be preventing
him from leaving Hogwarts this year for reasons he could not think of. “Professor, did he give a
reason why?”

“I'm in no position to demand any explanation from the Headmaster his simple instruction,
Potter,” said McGonagall sternly. However, she loosened up and moved closer to Harry and whisper
sympathetically “But I suspect it's about what happened last week and You-Know-Who. I want to
know what transpired with your meeting. Tell me as soon as you can, okay?”

“Do you think he'd allow me to go?”

“I have no idea, Potter,” said McGonagall. “I don't even know what he wants to talk to you
about, but if that's the case, it's up to the Headmaster to decide. Off you go now.”

Harry walked back to his seat robotically. He thought he had a Dementor at his side he would
never feel happy again in the next few weeks. The thought that everyone enjoying their holidays
while he'd be all alone with no one to talk to for weeks was unbearable as it was already. He
never felt so pessimistic in his whole life.

“Harry, what's wrong?” said Hermione, very concerned, as Harry sat back down on his stool.
“What did McGonagall say?”

Harry told Ron, Hermione, and Ginny what McGonagall said to him at the teachers' table.
Hermione looked compassionately at him, while Ron snatched furitive looks at McGonagall, and
cowered when the teacher seemed to look at their direction.

“That sounds like he doesn't want you to go,” said Ginny.

“Yeah, it does, isn't it?” said Harry miserably. “D'you think he'd allow me to go? I
mean, I really want to already.”

“Why not?” said Ron. “I see no reason he wouldn't.”

Harry bent over closer to Ron, Hermione and Ginny to say at an undertone, “Well, McGonagall said
because Voldemort's out there…” With the sound of Voldemort's name Ron coughed and Ginny
cringed.

“You're right, it might the reason why he wants to talk to you about it,” said Hermione
seriously. “If you ask me, he couldn't force you to stay here if you didn't want to -
he'd just ask you to, but if you don't want to, he probably can't stop you.”

“Yeah, that makes sense,” said Harry, nodding and thinking deeply. He now had a new sense of
hope he could get out for Christmas after all.

Shortly, however, after thinking about it even more carefully, Hermione had a sudden change of
heart. “But knowing that, please don't be difficult for him at the same time, Harry,” she said,
with a slight pleading look now drawn on her face. “If he really asks you to stay, I hope you
won't argue with him. He might have very good reasons to keep you at Hogwarts. I mean, he's
just protecting you, isn't he?”

“Thanks, but I think you know we're old enough to take care of ourselves now, we're
already fifteen, aren't we?” Harry reasoned, readily preferring the other option that was
available for him just to escape two weeks of loneliness. “We're not babies anymore,
right?”

“That's right, but neither are we legally adults,” said Hermione wisely.

Harry sighed. Hermione was right but he knew what he wanted. “Well, I'm no more different
than everyone else here. Voldemort's back, and everyone else is fair game if he chooses to
murder anybody like me. I won't let Voldemort ruin my choice to have a good Christmas - I'm
going whether Dumbledore likes it or not.”

“Hear, hear!” said Ron. Hermione, however, didn't seem to be showing any signs of
gladness.

“Well, okay,” Hermione said slowly, looking worried. “If no one wants to listen to me for reason
anymore around here, I'm off to bed,” She got up and walked out of the Great Hall, obviously
hurt, leaving Harry stunned.

“What'd I say?” Harry asked Ron, who appeared to be indifferent to Hermione as usual.

“Don't mind her, you said nothing wrong…”

“Oh, you boys are so thick sometimes,” Ginny said, rolling her eyes.

“How can you say that?” Ron snapped at his sister. “You're the one who brought this up…”
Ginny just rolled her eyes once more, shook her head, and took a bite off her apple.

“I'm sure Dumbledore isn't thinking what you're thinking,” Ron said optimistically,
turning to Harry. “You're just making up your own problems, mate. Besides, you've stayed at
Hogwarts every Christmas for the last four years - it's ripe for change, eh?”

With Ron's words, Harry felt new hope he could avoid loneliness during the holidays and
continued on with his dinner slightly happier.

After stuffing every air space their stomachs had with chow, Harry and Ron walked back to the
Gryffindor Common Room feeling rather sleepy. Seeing Hermoine walk off very sadly away like that
had a striking effect on Harry. He hoped to see Hermione at her usual place of study so that he
could apologize to her for reasons unknown to him before they'd turn in for the night. He
thought he should have not brought the subject about Dumbledore at dinner, and he felt deeply
disappointed that she wasn't there.

“You could still talk to her tomorrow if it's still bothering you,” Ron told Harry, after
sensing his troubled mind. “As for me, I don't have to put up with her each time she has a fit.
She'll get over it by tomorrow morning, I promise you.”

Harry walked up to his dormitory and changed to pajamas, and opened the daily planner (a
birthday gift from Hermione this year) to write down what he had to do immediately the next day.
“*Do what you write, or you won't rest the next night…*” the quote of the day said. He
ignored it, but wrote something that oddly rhymed:

*“Talk to Dumbledore/Talk to Hermione - they may be right.”*

-o0o-

“Sir Lucius, I have the latest report from your men, specifically from the first Group,” said
the visiting Death Eater in Lucius' study at the Malfoy Manor later that same night.

“Well, let's hear it, then” said Lucius, looking at him, expecting some progress to his
plans. He had been waiting for some concrete news like what the enemy might be planning to do, even
as the most trivial of plans that they might be doing for the next vacation was important.

“They're on the move as we speak. We'll have the third subject you want very soon.”

“Good. How about the *other* tasks?

“The persons you've identified have been pinpointed. The other groups will do their work at
the right moment. We shall know how everything went in a matter of days.”

“Thank you, Campion, you're dismissed if you have no other news to report,” Lucius said in
an expressionless face, and the Death Eater did not say anything more and left the study. Lucius
leaned back on his chair, smirking in an extremely satisfied way.

He was particularly proud of the fact that he had successfully gathered all the people he needed
for the job, amazingly on short notice. The plan was top secret and is privy only to him, the Dark
Lord, and people he had employed. The success of ultimately snatching the boy directly from
Hogwarts for dead would be a marvelous feat and a heavy blow to those who opposed the Dark Lord. At
least, this was the next best thing after Potter slipped away from their full grasp the last time.
The snatching would not happen this Christmas, though, but in due time in the middle of the term
using his mole at Hogwarts.

On top of the Death Eater's report, Draco had notified him a few minutes earlier that Harry
Potter will be staying at Hogwarts for the holidays. He was expecting Dumbledore would not let
Potter out of the safety of Hogwarts, and he wasn't disappointed with Dumbledore's
predictability. In fact, Potter's holiday in Hogwarts set the conditions right for his plan to
work, which was scheduled to commence shortly after the Hogwarts' students Christmas vacation
started. He had made plans to ascertain that Potter would stay back at Hogwarts, or if that
can't be done, to be away from his targets. Lucius had a surprise of his own, which he expected
some Death Eaters to perform at the dead of the night.

“Dead of the night,” he laughed, “quite fitting.”

Of course, the Dark Lord had approved mostly Lucius had proposed, including the tasks he
committed for the next few nights. What a terrible surprise the Wizard world will have in the
morning, a taste of what's to come. His Death Eaters have been chomping at the bit for this
kind of action, which they missed doing ever since Voldemort disappeared during that fateful
encounter with the Potters at Godric's Hollow. Oh, the joy it would bring back to the Death
Eater ranks. Muggle torture, Muggle slaughter! Thankfully, the Dark Lord thought that being
secretive have outlived its uses since he had built back his small army of Death Eaters in just a
short period of time, and this magnificent new Fortress that the Wizard World will learn to
fear.

However, wonderful the feeling of being back as it was more than a decade ago, this time it was
slightly different for Lucius.

Lucius had already given up with his personal vendetta against the Weasleys, as the last fiasco
had caused him great pain. The only thing that was important to him now was to keep himself alive
by not failing the Dark Lord's every command from now on. Nothing was now precious but his very
own life, praises from the Dark Lord be damned. He had been blundering ever since, and the Dark
Lord had not failed to punish him for every disappointment he had brought him, but he was
considered a statistical anomaly among his fellow Death Eaters. He had been spared from death so
many times when most other Death Eaters had not been lucky to have lived after more than one
failure in their record. He was a dead man walking. Such was the terror of serving and defying
Voldemort, and Lucius felt that his luck was quickly running out. It was only logical that
he'll do everything what Voldemort asks him to do - for Lucius.

Finally, he stood up from his chair, took his white robe from the closet, donned his grey mask,
and disapparated to Xanthius to inform Voldemort of the news. It was all systems go and no turning
back for Lucius Malfoy. After all, he was left with no choice but to do it.

-->



3. Carpe Retractim
------------------



**Chapter 2**

Carpe Retractum

**H**arry didn't need to check his daily planner soon after he woke up because he'd
been firm about what he needed to do today. He couldn't quite understand at first why he felt
so strongly taken aback with what Hermione said the last time they were together. He had
remembered, after an hour of thinking before falling to sleep, the reason was perhaps it was only
recently that he had almost caused the death of Hermione because he refused to listen to what she
tried to point out to him then. Harry had then felt as guilty as when Voldemort took advantage of
that and brought him to the brink of joining up with him to escape responsibility. How stupid of
him how quickly he'd take Hermione again for granted after the costly lesson he learned, he
thought.

He hoped he'd meet her when he went down to the Common Room, but most of the students had
already left to have breakfast at the Great Hall. Only Lavender Brown was around organizing her
books for the day near the Fireplace.

“Lavender, has Hermione left already?” he asked her as soon as he landed on the Common Room
floor.

“Good morning to you, too,” replied Lavender, smiling. “Yeah, she went out pretty early this
morning. Why, did you two have another fight or something?”

“Not really - why?” Harry said, surprised. “What happened?”

Lavender hesitated. “Well, she was mess. She kept on crying last night - wanted us to leave her
alone. Poor Hermione…” Lavender shook her head and looked sincerely concerned. “I'm beginning
to get worried about her…er, sanity. I couldn't forget the look on her face more than a week
ago - but this time she's letting off some steam by crying it out. I guess that's a tad
better than bottling it all in…”

“I thought she was hurt about something I said, but I didn't realize then until now it was
that bad…” Harry said, but Lavender only shrugged. “What do you think should I do?”

Lavender stared, and rolled her eyes. “What else but the obvious…talk to her!”

“Oh, right,” Harry said, feeling stupid. “Thanks.”

He got out of the common room and walked toward the first place he thought he had the best
chance of finding Hermione: the Library. Unfortunately, she wasn't there at all after he
scoured every aisle and table. Harry then looked around for any signs of bushy brown hair outside
the corridors but then Angelina Johnson, the new Quidditch captain, happened to pass by. “Great,
I've been looking all over for you!” she said.

“Huh?” Harry muttered.

“Yes, you!” Angelina shot back. “I hope there are no more excuses from you, and just in case you
haven't noticed, our first Quidditch match of the year was a week ago. I hadn't had time to
look for a substitute Seeker and we were doomed to lose the game with the Slytherins!”

Harry wanted to point out to Angelina that it wasn't his fault the former Head Boy caused
him to miss just about every class and event for the last two weeks. Angelina cut him off the
moment he opened his mouth to talk.

“Yeah, I know! I know You-Know-Who captured you along with the Weasleys - I know the story quite
so well I don't have time to hear the same old story all over again!” Harry was beginning to
dislike Angelina quickly because at this point she seemed to be beyond reason.

“Then what do you suppose I had to do back in Xanthius?” said Harry heatedly, making Angelina
jerk back a step. “Ask Voldemort” - she jumped again - “for a break from prison because I had to
play Quidditch back at Hogwarts because if I didn't, you'd bite my head off? He
wouldn't have wanted to get beaten up to it, I wager.”

“Yes!” she said, moving back closer to Harry with her eyes widening. “Now you're thinking!
You had the Weasleys with you, didn't you? You could have told You-Know-Who not to worry
because you'd come back for them!”

Harry hung his mouth open in disbelief in front of Angelina - he couldn't fathom why someone
as intelligent as her could ever think that anyone could hope to get a two-day pass from Voldemort
using his friends as insurance.

“Angelina, what have you been eating or drinking lately?” Harry asked suspiciously.

“It's none of your business what I've been taking, Potter!” she spat, getting more
irritable. “I want you to report for practice Friday night. The whole Gryffindor team will be
there. If you won't, you're out of the team!”

Without waiting for a reply, she stormed through the corridor and bumped every student aside who
happened to be in her way. Halfway through disappearing from sight, though, she stopped abruptly
and turned back to stare again at Harry.

“No…not that. Just be there or you'll be sorry,” she added and then went on her way.

Harry turned to the opposite direction quickly, placed both of his hands in his robe pockets,
and kicked a leg on thin air.

“Pssst, Harry,” said a voice from inside the nearest classroom that sounded like Fred or
George's. “Is she gone?”

“If you're talking about Angelina, I don't care!” Harry grumbled, facing the twins.

“Yeah, me too,” said George, dodging Harry's foot as he had taken another swing. “She's
become so unbearable since our loss with Slytherin - can't take excuses from anyone!”

“Don't worry about it, mate,” Fred said, grinning. “She doesn't have the will to boot
you out…”

“That's encouraging,” Harry replied sarcastically. “Friday is one day before everybody goes
for the Holidays for cryin' out loud! And we're gonna have Quidditch practice? What
good's it going to do? We'll all be taking on extra weight when get back from the holidays
anyway. She's losing it…”

“The reason why we had to risk bumping with Angelina again to find you, Harry,” George said,
ignoring Harry's tirade, “is that you have something that we're both really interested on,”
George said.

Harry looked at both of them guardedly. “Yeah? What's it that you want?”

George cleared his throat. “It has come to our attention that you possess a pretty rare and
slightly used Pocket Portkey.”

“Uh, yeah,” Harry, remembering the little gadget he got from Willard, the former stranger who
accommodated and helped him return to the Burrow with Ron. “I bet Ron told you all about that, huh?
Can't shut up about anything, he does…”

“It hurts us a great deal when we hear someone talking ill about our favorite brother,” said
Fred, mocking faint while George coughed. “His big mouth's proving to be very useful for the
business, you know.”

“And you two want it, right?” Harry asked, knowing what was coming. Fred and George said nothing
but tap danced in unison in front of Harry, making him laugh at last. “Okay, just remind me before
bed to give it you - it's yours! I don't need it anymore.”

“Oh, thanks!” said George excitedly. “But we'll just borrow it; you never know when
you'd need it again.”

“Nah…” Harry started, but Fred stopped him.

“We'll return it in due time, sport.”

“We never talked to you…” added George. “You never talked to us about this…”

“Huh?” said Harry.

“Lest you could be in trouble with us for industrial espionage…”

“But we'll roll out our own version for it, don't you worry.”

“You're going to reverse engineer it?” Harry said with genuine interest.

“No way, that's disgraceful!” said Fred, looking scandalized but winked soon after.

“Okay,” said Harry shortly. “I just want to know - have you seen Hermione anywhere?”

The twins sniggered and poked each other with their elbows. “Where else? Library…”

As soon as he heard that, Harry was already on his way back from whence he came, ignoring Malfoy
who seemed to have thought of another way to ruin his day. Harry saw Hermione later on walking out
of the Library door and ran towards her.

“Hermione!”

Hermione took a couple of seconds to look at Harry, but whipped around to march away from him.
She was obviously avoiding him; Harry had been expecting this so he wasn't surprised. He picked
up speed, overtook her, and blocked her way in the gentlest way he could possibly do.

“Hermione, please, why are you mad at me?” Harry said pleadingly, opposing her every move to
bypass him. “Lavender told me you were crying the whole night. You know it breaks my heart…” At
last she gave up and spoke for the first time today.

“Oh, that's nice,” she said sadly, without looking Harry in the eyes. “But you don't
seem to want to listen to what I say anymore.”

“But I do…”

“No you don't…you're just saying that to make me feel better. Just so you know it's
been getting worse every year. I can't help but think you're gradually shutting me
out.”

“No, that's not true, not true at all,” said Harry, his eyebrows furrowing. “You've been
my special friend ever since…always.”

“Oh, yeah?” she said, her voice quivering. “Then why is you aren't heeding what I say? Is it
because you think I'm a killjoy? Nerdy? Uncool? Miss know-it-all? Afraid I'm going to weed
out the thrill out of your plans? It hurts me to think of this but you don't seem to appreciate
all the effort I do all these years to make you see sense to every hasty decision you make. Because
it always boils down to one thing - I don't want you hurt. I care very much for your safety,
Harry…I really do!” Tears started to stream down her cheeks again.

Harry didn't know what to say yet. He knew that Hermione meant well of being against having
him out of the protective walls of Hogwarts especially now they knew that Voldemort's may be
really out to get him. He had him once; who said he won't do it again? However, he was not that
prepared to concede since this would mean giving up on his wish to keep away from total loneliness.
Harry thought the only other way to convince him to stay at Hogwarts was that Hermione or Ron would
at least decide canceling their plans to go home this Christmas, but he knew it was wrong -
he'd surely feel guilty about depriving his friends of a well-deserved holiday with their
families. That was already out of the question.

“I've really been dreading this,” Hermione went on, now staring at Harry's eyes though
she was blinded with tears. “We've known each other for five years but I've been dreading
the time would come I'd ask myself what am I to you.” She took a deep breath and sobbed.

“No…”

“Just recently I've started to ask myself, `am I just a friend for convenience?'
Or…”

“No, you're not!” Harry said hotly, so strongly that Hermione stopped talking, stared her
tearful eyes at Harry with a hint of fear for a moment, and buried her face in her hands. Harry
immediately regretted his sudden outburst and put an arm around her shoulder. She didn't
resist, and leaned her whole weight unto Harry.

Harry let out a soft gasp that only he could hear - he felt something different for the first
time ever. It was as if he wanted to press Hermione much closer to him than what was possible in
the first time. They had hugged before, back at the lake days ago when they talked about
Hermione's problems. It was the longest hug that Harry had ever gotten from Hermione, but it
didn't strike him then. But this one was different - Harry felt he was now beginning to enjoy
it. The feeling of Hermione so close to him was getting wonderful as it was getting scary. A
typical boy Harry was, he struggled to act normal as if this hug was like nothing - he almost made
it.

Hermione had removed her hands from her face and proceeded to wrap her arms around Harry's
waist and rested her head on his chest tightly as she sobbed continuously.

Harry gasped again in surprise. Another emotion came after this second shock. He felt even more
care and concern to Hermione than what we had if she hadn't hugged him. He had felt his love
for his best friend slightly grow…

Hermione, meanwhile, firmly believed it was perfectly possible that Harry might die soon after
he stepped out of Hogwarts; she was torn between her determination to protect him at all cost
because she secretly loved him and her wish that he'd have a pretty normal and happy life (she
knew how deprived Harry was of that in all of his fifteen years).

Harry, on the other hand, could not then make up his mind aside from dealing with his fresh
emotions for Hermione. He hated the mere thought of spending three lonely weeks in Hogwarts all by
himself, and he didn't want to give Voldemort the chance to assassinate him outside of Hogwarts
either.

They had quite a big difference in sentiments at the moment!

“Oh, Harry, I-I'm so sorry…” she wept. “I'm really, really sorry…”

“It's all right, Hermione,” he said, sighing and patting her back with his hand. “It's
me who should be sorry…” He had just noticed that several students have passed them, and some girls
were talking excitedly at a corner in hushed tones; they obviously had found a new subject for
gossip.

“I came looking for you because I realized last night you meant well,” Harry said. “I
couldn't stand leaving you alone hurt by what I've done - whatever I did to hurt you. And…I
never knew you to be this emotional…”

“Neither I was so full of myself,” croaked Hermione. “It just dawned unto me. I've been so
hurt and thinking about my own feelings I forgot about what you've been through all your life -
and the last five years.”

“Yeah, it's been a rocky ride, all right.”

“I want you to be happy - you deserve to be happy. But with *him* out there, I-I'm so
afraid you won't be allowed that, and to lose you…”

Harry took a deep long breath. Hermione really cared for him. He didn't have to use his
brains to realize that, of course. Ever since they all became established friends Hermione had
shown real concern to him, and at the same time Ron, but this was the very first time she ever
admitted her real fears and concerns for him. Only that he'd been stupid as not to notice that
every time she tells them off for just about every mischief they made - he didn't know how many
times already. Ron, on the other hand, seemed to be insufferably indifferent to her, but he knew
Ron had a very soft spot for Hermione, too. However, Harry knew Ron as a person who'd rather
serve detention all his life rather than admit it openly.

“Voldemort's still scaring you, isn't he?” said Harry softly.

“Who doesn't?”

“Well, true,” said Harry, patting her again on her back and tightening his embrace. “Dumbledore,
probably. Do you want to pour out your soul on me now, I'll be all ears,” he added, laughing a
little to lighten her up.

Hermione took a while to decide what to answer Harry.

“I want to,” she said, “but probably not for now. Can we keep this aside for a while? Maybe some
other time.” Hermione broke away from Harry and she wiped her wet face of tears with her hands.
Harry offered her a fresh hanky and she gratefully accepted it.

“Well, if you say so… I'd yet to talk with Dumbledore about the holidays - maybe later.
I'll tell you what happened then.” Harry gave Hermione a tentative smile.

“Thanks, Harry,” she said, blowing her nose loudly. “Whatever happens, I guess I'll just
think of a way to help you through it…Oh, darn! Sorry, you're missing breakfast because of me…”
she sniffed.

Just then Ron appeared around the corner and approached them. “There you are,” he said, panting.
“I've been looking all day for you! It's been ten minutes through breakfast and - what
happened here?”

“Meet you two in the Great Hall,” she said to Harry. “I'll just fix myself up at the
girls' bathroom - I look so silly. I *am* so silly…” Harry gave her a quick grin and waved
at her.

“Harry, what - “

Harry chose to avoid answering Ron directly. He still felt the tension of his embrace with
Hermione coursing throughout his whole body and he needed to recover.

“Tell you all about it later,” he said shakily. “C'mon, Ron, let's eat breakfast. I just
heard my stomach growling.”

“Have you talked to Dumbledore yet?” asked Ron while he and Harry walked briskly towards the
Great Hall.

“Not yet, but I really hope he allows me to stay at the Burrow this Christmas.”

“I'm sure he will, Harry,” said Ron very confidently. “I still don't see any real reason
why he won't. And don't let Hermione stop you…”

“Yeah, but she seems okay about it right now. I'm beginning to dread staying here this
Christmas all alone with each passing minute.”

As soon as they reached their seats, Harry and Ron wolfed down their eggs, bacon, and toast.
Hermione arrived a little later, her eyes still red, but significantly calmer than she was minutes
ago. Harry then seemed to be joyful each time he saw her and she smiled back feeling rather
embarrassed.

*If we're going to hug again, I won't say no*, Harry thought dreamily.

At the teachers' table, Dumbledore and the entire faculty were also eating breakfast. This
year's Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher, Professor Rowel Russelpunk, talked animatedly
with Professor Snape (who looked extremely annoyed with him). Professor Flitwick used his fork not
as an eating utensil, but a makeshift wand as if he was practicing charms. Madam Hooch didn't
seem to mind her breakfast; her eyes were busy scanning the ceiling as if she was expecting
something until her face erupted into a big smile when the first wooshing sound reverberated in the
Great Hall.

Owl post arrived at the usual time; the owls swooped down on top of their recipients to deliver
their packages and mail. It never failed to generate excited talk from the students each time. As
Harry had expected, he didn't see Hedwig among the flock of owls. Ron had a small package,
apparently from his mother; Hermione had a few letters and a rolled parchment, which Harry
recognized as the usual morning edition of the Daily Prophet. He continued eating his breakfast
while the Great Hall was full of the sound of paper being ripped and parchment being unrolled,
expecting nothing new from the daily ritual.

There was a moment of murmuring of letters being read, and oddly a gasp somewhere, and soon
Harry was startled when he heard a scream coming from the direction of the Hufflepuff table, that
was followed by a thudding sound from Ravenclaw (the recipient fainted), and weeping from the
Gryffindor seventh years.

“Hermione, what's happening?” he said to her, being the first one his eyes caught, but she
was looking around as bewildered as everyone else. He looked around, too, hoping someone could talk
and make sense of what was happening, but nobody did; the whole Great Hall was filled with anxious
and confused talk.

Professor McGonagall came walking down clumsily from the teachers' table towards the
Hufflepuff girl, who was hysterically crying and was being comforted by her classmates around her.
Dumbledore took off his half-moon specs and rubbed his eyes, reading something and he seemed to
look very serious. Hermione had already scanned the Daily Prophet as fast as her still-red eyes
could do.

“Hey, what does it say?” Ron asked anxiously. “Quick!”

Hermione turned every page of the issue.

“Nothing,” she said, frowning. “Just reports of cauldrons being stolen, cooking recipes, just
nothing!” She sniffed her nose.

“Then what's the meaning of all this?” said Harry, looking around still confused. “I got to
know what's happening here - hang on.” He stood up and walked over to Fred and George Weasley,
who were part of the Gryffindor seventh years. The looks on their faces as he approached them
didn't make Harry feel comfortable.

“Suzy O'Brien's parents have been murdered, I hear,” said George gloomily while he
watched Suzy grieving with a friend.

“By who?” said Harry, expecting the worst. Ron and Hermione had followed behind him.

“The Dark Mark was found over their house last night,” added Fred, shamelessly reading
Suzy's letter from the Ministry of Magic without her permission. “First time it's happened
this kind in fifteen years, this is.”

“Oh, my gosh!” exclaimed Hermione, both her hands on her face. “It's starting to happen
again! Isn't it?!?”

“I knew it would so soon,” said Lee Jordan miserably, shaking his head, “after Harry said
You-Know-Who's back. We just didn't know exactly when.”

Fred handed Harry the letter and he then read it. It was signed by a Ramius Palkov of the
Ministry of Magic.

“Nobody believed what Harry was trying to tell us for months, and that included me,” said Seamus
gravely from behind George. “Here's the proof staring at us.” He grabbed the letter and waved
it around the Hall for everyone to see. “Potter was right all along! We've been too afraid to
believe him…and Dumbledore! You Know Who's back!!!” He looked at Harry again and said, “Sorry
for ever doubting you, Harry!”

Harry did his best not to show any visible signs of pleasure of being vindicated. The temptation
to say “See, I told you” to everyone was simply overwhelming and he had to control himself. Thanks
to Seamus, his words made a big impact on everyone within earshot, like a painful knock in their
noggin, and it was good enough for him. For Harry it looked like he got the wish he made in
Hagrid's hut yesterday, but instead of making him feel satisfied about it, he felt quite queasy
around the stomach.

There were muttering sounds made by the students that suggested they concurred with Seamus,
although there were others who vehemently disagreed with everything and dismissed the news
entirely. Malfoy and his friends, on the other hand, were the only ones who seemed to be happy with
the news. “Told you you'll be next, Mudbloods!” said Malfoy around gleefully.

Ignoring Malfoy, Harry looked around the Great Hall again. It was surreal seeing around him
worried-looking faces from all the students - history was now repeating itself. Voldemort was truly
back and was starting to do what he did more than 15 years ago; the deaths had heralded his second
reign of terror. He couldn't know how it felt then, but this early the tension and the
uncertainty for the future was indescribable. The only question was, was the wizarding world ready?
What will the Ministry of Magic do for them this time? Would they still deny Voldemort has returned
once more now that the Dark Mark was seen hovering over the house of at least three wizard
families, who have just been found dead and were apparently murdered?

Amid Malfoy's chuckling, everybody looked at Dumbledore and waited for what he had to say.
He was now their ray of hope, as he was before their birth when Voldemort terrorized the wizarding
world. He was the one in charge. Sensing most eyes were now looking at him from around the Great
Hall, he stood up and looked around. The noise in the Great Hall gradually died down, and all ears
were ready and eager to hear his (hopefully) ever-encouraging words. The only sound being heard
left where from the orphans, who were still sobbing.

“All `affected' students are excused for the hospital wing for the day and as long as
necessary,” he started. “All other students, please proceed to your scheduled classes - you will
hear from me again, hopefully. Good day to you all.”

There were voices of protest and incredulity made by students who demanded explanation of
what's happened. Even Harry, Ron, and Hermione couldn't believe they were left hanging by
Dumbledore though they thought he was also caught in complete surprise like the rest of them. Some
students have already started standing up and walk slowly out of the Great Hall with excited talk
but Harry, Ron, Hermione, and most of the Gryffindors chose to be the last ones out.

Harry couldn't look at Hermione's eyes. He knew what this meant: he was certain what was
happening outside of Hogwarts were good enough reasons to have him grounded in Hogwarts for the
Christmas holidays. How could he now justify to Dumbledore that he had to spend Christmas outside
the school now that is was obviously risky to do so?

With all his might, like his eyes weighed a ton, he steered his gaze towards her. She was also
looking back at him, but not with her usual “See I told you so” stare, but her face was drawn with
sadness and worry - and unspoken pleading for him to think things over very carefully now.

“C'mon, we're gonna be late for class,” said Ron, nudging Harry. “I can't believe
we're still having classes after all this!” They were among the last to leave the Great Hall,
including Hermione, who fretted along with the whole school.

-o0o-

“It hasn't really started yet,” said Hermione slowly as they walked together along the
corridors towards their next class for Defense Against the Dark Arts.

“What do you mean?” said Ron, but he suddenly shuddered. “Oh, I get it. We'll see more of
this in the coming days…is that it?”

“Not only more of it, Ron,” Hermione replied as they rounded up the corner leading to a very
long hall towards their classroom. “I've read about in the *Rise and Fall of the Dark
Arts* that V-Voldemort didn't just solely murder anybody in his last reign of terror. He
used to kidnap wizards to force them to do something for him, and worse these wizards never knew
they were actually working for Voldemort. These wizards served as his secret servants also
reporting to him those who might have been planning to oppose him.”

“And?”

“Don't you see? That's why Voldemort was very difficult to defeat. Aside from his vast
knowledge and gift of the magical arts, he had his own machinery - and the secret servants. Almost
all of these wizards were never known. Rumor has it they have been fed to werewolves or banished to
some phantom zone forever after they served their purpose, or just maybe they just ceased to
function as servants when Voldemort disappeared. There could still be some remnants today who can
be called back to serve again - without their knowledge.

“No real group had ever succeeded in banding up to fight Voldemort - if there was one, some of
its members were murdered and the survivors scattered before they could've become a very potent
force. That's why the wizard world was so weak against him because it was fractious. Except for
one group…”

“What was it called?” asked Harry.

“Legend has it that there was an Order that managed to stand up to the Death Eaters, but it had
no name. I couldn't find any other reference to it.”

“Probably because it was so secret,” Harry thought aloud. “They might have done well to choose
their members carefully - I wonder what it was called. Say, I'd love to start my own club
against him, too.”

“Hey, that's a cool idea, Harry,” said Ron, looking excited. “Count me in…er, maybe next
year.”

“I guess from what Hermione's saying,” Harry continued, “forming groups like these would be
a big feat because Voldemort got to us first. I bet the Wizard World'll be having another tough
time ahead.”

“That doesn't sound very encouraging at all,” Ron said gloomily.

“Yes, that's the problem,” Hermione said, stopping near the Defence Against the Dark Arts
classroom door. “So knowing Voldemort's back, it's only logical that he might be repeating
his strategy. So we must be careful who we talk to when discussing about these `clubs' if we
ever hear about them or joining up any. We and our families could be targets for retribution.”

“I think that's not necessary, Hermione, for us at least,” said Ron. “Just about everybody
knows we're against You Know Who.”

“Hmmm, that's right,” Hermione said, tapping her chin with a finger, “but we might be
endangering others who might want to join up an anti-Voldemort group.”

“Malfoy's got to know something,” Harry muttered.

“What's that?” said Hermione. “Don't forget he loves to think he knows more about
something than we do.”

“Remember the brief encounter I had with him yesterday? He said `trust no one', didn't
he?”

“Oh, Merlin's beard!” exclaimed Hermione. “His father is a known Death Eater, Harry. Of
course he knows about it! Lucius Malfoy surely would've bragged how evil he was as a Death
Eater to his own son.”

“Draco was even having fun back in the Great Hall when the bad news broke,” said Ron, his face
livid. “He's such a humongous dung pile.”

“And the Ministry of Magic almost had his father…” said Harry. “I could've thrown everyone a
party when he would've been locked up in Azkaban.” He sighed.

“It's a shame he got off scot-free,” replied Hermione. “Seems to me it gave even more reason
for Malfoy to become cockier. I mean, he now thinks they could get away with just about everything.
What do you suppose would happen next?”

“Speaking of Azkaban, I expect we'll see the Dementors joining up with Voldemort soon,” said
Harry gravely, eliciting shocked expressions from Ron and Hermione's.

“Why did you ever think of that, Harry?” asked Hermione. “That's terrible!”

“When I met Voldemort at a graveyard last year, I heard him say the Dementors will want to join
him. They've become so impatient with the Ministry of Magic for restricting their use of the
kiss.”

“Then that means, whenever that happens, they will leave Azkaban and all of the convicted Death
Eaters can escape!” theorized Hermione, almost feeling faint.

“*Di-arrhea*!” exclaimed Ron. He leaned on a wall of the corridor and wiped his sweaty brow
with his hand. “Hermione was right, we've seen nothing yet!”

“Does Fudge know about this?” said Hermione with a new sense of urgency. “We must tell him!”

“He knows about it already, Hermione,” said Harry, “at the hospital wing last year. Dumbledore
told him that was the first thing to do but he refused to listen, remember? Remember at how relaxed
he was when we were called into that little ceremony in Dumbledore's office earlier this
term.”

“To tell you the truth, I thought Dumbledore was nuts to suggest that, but now I know…”

Their conversation was cut immaturely when Professor Russelpunk came striding towards them for
his Defence Against the Dark Arts class. Russelpunk didn't fail to astonish them every time
they saw him in the morning.

“What now?” said Ron under his breath as he goggled at their teacher, along with Hermione and
Harry.

Russelpunk wore a very colorful costume today (like he did with his costumes almost everyday) -
one with pearly white loose baggy pants, a pink shirt, a black cameraman's vest, dark
sunglasses, and blue sneakers with brown socks. He walked like a peacock, in a hip-hop fashion, and
carried a whole stack of books. It was a completely different set of clothes he had worn for
breakfast. He had obviously gotten back to his quarters to change, thus he was a little late.

Professor Rowwel Russelpunk was about forty, born from Muggle parents, had fair skin and wavy
brown hair, and was a tad taller than Harry. Dumblodore had realized too late after hiring him for
the year (and after hoping he could stay on for the next several years), that despite the fact got
out of Hogwarts in the mid-80's with high marks, he wasn't at all interested in mingling
with his fellow teachers. He preferred to hang out with the students - teenagers - trying to fit in
with them, and often bragged about how cool he was when he was their age. (This, Dumbledore had
surmised, was the reason he was so absent minded and was out of focus about teaching and always
came in to class virtually unprepared).

Of course, most of the students found him very annoying and avoided him at all cost. At least
the students who took Muggle Studies seemed not to mind being seen hanging out with him, which he
found fun, but only to treat him like a specimen; a good source for research. Nothing else!

“Ah, ready for another interesting round of lessons, lion-hearted lads and lovely miss?” he said
jovially. “Oh, don't you worry about these books, do you really think we'll finish all of
these in an hour?” he joked but Harry, Ron, and Hermione failed to respond immediately; they
entered the classroom quickly ahead of him.

“Oh for…here comes the *worst* Mudblood,” Draco said loudly inside the classroom just as
when the whole class gasped after seeing Russelpunk. Hermione, thinking it was her that Draco was
referring to, shot him a sharp stare.

Parvati Patil and Lavender Brown both giggled at the back of the room, extremely amused with
Russelpunk's costume today. “Ooooh, what colorful getup you have today, Professor!” said
Lavender. Ron surveyed Russelpunk's clothes with deep interest.

“Thank you very much, Miss Brown,” said the pleased professor. “You know, back in the 80's
when you were all little tykes, I was one of the most envied Breakdancers in America when I studied
advanced Magic there after Hogwarts, and this was my winning costume!” He raised his hand halfway
through the air and spun around for everyone to see. He ended his show by slapping his bulging
belly with both hands.

Dean Thomas leaned over to Harry and whispered, “The other day he said he was once a matinee
idol.”

“D'you happen to know which movie he appeared in?” said Harry, who knew about movies because
he was raised by Muggle foster parents.

“He was one of a thousand zombies in a single scene of the *Night of the Terrible Dead.* It
bombed.”

“Yesterday he wore king's robes,” said Hermione, facing Dean. “He didn't say why. What
was he trying to tell us?”

“Go figure,” Dean chuckled.

“Who in his right mind would do a dance and breaking their bones?” said Ron, looking
disturbed.

“Good Morning, Fifth years,” said Russelpunk, transferring his hands on his waist and walking
deeper to the rows of seats. “Now, as you have known just this morning, the Dark Lord apparently is
on a new rampage with the unfortunate news of murders. This would make our lessons in Defence
Against the Dark Arts more interesting and important, don't you agree?”

Instead of getting sounds of interested talk, the whole class moaned with Russelpunk's
statement.

“What's the matter, class?”

“Do you ever need to remind us You Know Who's back, sir?” groaned Seamus. “We were starting
to enjoy your - little diversion - we kind of forgot about him for a moment.”

“Now, now, class, don't you despair!” he said with an encouraging voice. “Professor Rowwel
Russelpunk is here to teach you the fine art of Defensive Magic, as I have been doing since the
start of term. Let's not waste anymore precious time! The Dark Forces are on the move whilst we
go idle. Take your wands out, please!”

The whole class obliged. Some students placed theirs on top of their desks, but some like
Neville, who was directly in front of Russelpunk, held on to his.

“Good, I shall teach you one of the most important spells you need to know to protect yourself.
I'm quite sure you haven't heard of this one. Crucial this one is and you must add it in
your personal arsenal of fighting magic - The Disarmament Spell!”

“*Expelliarmus!*” he bellowed after designating Neville's wand as his target.

The spell worked perfectly as it should, but Neville's wand sped straight towards Hannah
Abbot's forehead and knocked her down off her seat. Quite a few students screamed.

“Oh, got carried away there, sorry,” said an embarrassed Russelpunk. “Are you all right, there,
Miss Abbot?” he called, sounding worried.

Hannah, with a darkening spot on her central forehead, nodded groggily as she attempted to get
back up on her seat. Ernie McMillan, who gone over to help her up said, “Sir, but we already had
that during Second Year.”

“Oh,” said Russelpunk, his face reddening. “Oh, I see. Then I guess that one's off the list
for today.”

Harry and Ron looked at each other and shrugged; Russelpunk strode towards his desk to cross
something out on a long parchment. “Professor Snape was *very* gracious to help me come up
with the rest of the year's lesson plan,” he explained, laughing nervously.

For the next half hour Russelpunk proposed from what was written on his list a few “new” lessons
for the class to teach, but each time some students informed him on what year they had already
learned the subject. First, Russelpunk introduced a lesson about the *Flipendo* Spell, but Ron
pointed out Professor Quirrel had already taught them that during their first year.

Halfway through it was *Diffindo* (the spell that repulses violent plants, second year)
until they jumped to Dark Creatures (which they studied in their third year) and the Unforgivable
Curses (Fourth Year). Giving up, Russelpunk folded his parchment with extreme disappointment. “Does
anybody know of a spell you haven't learned yet?” he sighed.

“Oh, Please! You're supposed to know more about us - you're the teacher!” said Draco
insolently. Russelpunk heard him, but said nothing in return, and gazed down on the floor
disenchanted. The Hufflepuffs and the Gryffindors felt growing sympathy for him, while the
Slytherins cheered and jeered. Draco bent towards Harry and said something only he could hear.

“He doesn't know anything because he's a Mudblood,” Draco said, with extreme pleasure.
Harry threw a scathing look at Malfoy, who was so pleased with himself.

Ron looked for help and bent over to Hermione, who had also heard Draco's remarks. “Quick!
Think of something for Russelpunk!” Hermione then raised her hand.

“Yes, Miss Granger?” said Russelpunk, looking up slowly.

“There's one thing, sir, that we're so interested in learning,” she said. “It's
perfect for our O.W.L. exams this year - the *Carpe Retractum* Spell.”

Russelpunk's gloomy face quickly changed into a big smile, and the whole class except the
Slytherins began to stir with interest.

“Why…yes, yes!” said Russelpunk happily, looking thankful. “How could I forget about that one?
Silly me. Thank you, Miss Granger! Uh, take ten points for Gryffindor!” The class clapped their
hands in relief and the professor walked away from his seat with fresh confidence.

“But, Hermione, that one's for Charms,” hissed Ron. Hermione, however, waved an impatient
hand at him and told him to shut up.

“Right, then, the *Carpe Retractum* Spell,” said Russelpunk taking out his wand. (Neville
and some students sat lower on their seats.) “Who can tell me the applications of *Carpe
Retractum*? Yes, Ms. Granger!”

“It causes the spellcaster to grapple permanently seated objects with his wand to cross over
some obstacles like deep chasms, and the like,” recited Hermione. “You could hang on and swing it
like a vine until you release the spell.”

“Cool! Like Tarzan!” exclaimed Dean.

“Who?” Ron said.

“Couldn't have said it better myself, Ms. Granger,” said Russelpunk. “Take two points for
Gryffindor. Additionally, it's also used for pulling objects up to ten times heavier than the
spellcaster for a few feet. The difference of a fairly similar spell to this one is that
*Accio* is used to summon for light objects from farther distances, but *Carpe Retractum*
is the logical choice of a spell to apply if you want to pull boulders, tree trunks, and other
heavy things.

“The only disadvantage for using this spell is that it drains a significant amount of
*mana*, the wizard's magical strength. So you need to use this spell sparingly. Otherwise,
you'd drop exhausted. The incantation for this spell is the same as its name. *Carpe
Retractum*. Who wants to try it first?”

More than half of the class raised their hands, but Russelpunk seemed to treat Hermione with
more attention now. It may have only been out of appreciation that she rescued him out of extreme
embarrassment.

“Ah, Miss Granger, of course, would you like to try the spell for the class to see?”

Hermione popped out of her seat excitedly and leaped to the front of class in a single
bound.

“Hold on while I'll conjure a heavy boulder for you to practice on, Miss Granger,” said
Russelpunk. “How heavy - I mean - light are you?”

“About ninety five pounds, sir,” Hermione replied.

“Okay, that means I'd make a rock up to ten times your weight - I'll shave it to half
since this is your first time.” Hermione winked at Harry, who grinned back; the majority of the
class looked on at her expectantly.

*Whump! Crash!*

“There we go! A nice round little four hundred pound boulder,” said Russelpunk in front of the
shiny grey rock, seated on a freshly damaged hole on the crumbling wooden floor. “Get ready now,
Miss Granger! This spell has the range of a hundred feet, class. Say the word…and pull.”

Hermione happily obliged and simply pointed her wand at the small. “*Carpe
Rectractum*!”

*BOOM!*

However, something went wrong with her spell! Hermione's wand created a strong invisible
explosion causing all students to be thrown off their seats; its shockwave collapsed part of the
brick-stone wall and shattered glass from the window panes. Students screamed and ran out in panic
as part of the classroom ceiling came crashing down on everyone, covering the whole room with a
blanket of thick dust. After Harry felt a few pairs of feet stepping on him on the floor, he
frantically felt for Ron, who was also on the floor beside him, but unhurt.

“Bloody hell! *What was that*?” Ron said, coughing and gasping for air.

“Hermione's spell backfired!” Harry said painfully. “Big time!”

“*Backfired*?!? B-but that's impossible…”

“C'mon, I think the room's clear - let's check on her and the professor!”

Harry and Ron blindly felt towards the spot where they last saw the professor and Hermione,
shoving loose wood fragments aside as they went. When they reached the area, the dust was already
thinning and they could see partly ahead of them.

“Blimey - this is déjà vu all over again…” said Ron, referring to their recent experience in
Xanthius when the former Head Boy Jack Chadron caused the fortress' ceiling to collapse that
killed himself.

“Hermione! Professor Russelpunk!” called Harry, coughing, but he could only hear
Russelpunk's painful moaning. He had been thrown straight into the rock he had conjured and he
hit his shin; he was holding his bleeding leg very painfully. “Are you okay, sir?”

“Oh, I feel marvelous,” said Russelpunk, wincing. “I'm no good…please look around for others
who might be hurt, will you?”

They had found Hermione within a second. She, however, laid down on the floor, apparently out
cold, and piece of wood from the ceiling had pinned her body on to the floor. Harry let out a dry
sob.

“Oh, my god,” said Ron. “Let's take that thing off her!”

“W-we'll do it very slowly,” Harry said. They both held the piece of ceiling and heaved,
then threw it aside. Ron knelt beside Hermione and rested her head on his lap. There was no sign of
blood on her aside from small bruises on her face, and Ron felt initially relieved.

“Thank goodness she's still breathing,” Ron said, and Harry nodded.

Madam Pomfrey had appeared at the doorway, heavily panting.“I heard there was a magical accident
here! What happened? My goodness!”

Harry knew that Madam Pomfrey thought it was completely unlikely that the brightest witch of the
school could cause this mishap, but he didn't care at all. He knew he had to bring her up to
the hospital wing at that instant. The only thing stopping him was he wasn't sure if it was
safe to do so then; she might have injured her spine. Thus, he hesitated to lift her.

After checking on Hermione, Madam Pomfrey declared it was okay for her to be transported up to
the hospital wing - she had no broken bones. Harry and Ron wanted to go with her, too, but they
were still covered with white dust from head to toe.

“Don't you dare come into my hospital wing in that state, boys!” warned Madam Pomfrey as she
carried Hermione off in a conjured hovering stretcher. “You clean up first!”

“No, she can't tell us that!” said Ron angrily to Harry, dancing uncertainly on the spot and
shedding loose bits of dust. “This is an emergency!”

“I'll go with them, Ron!” Ginny said, running and passing them from behind. She, too, had
heard about the accident and got there to see for herself. “See you there later!”

Harry had managed to hold on to Ron to calm him down, although he also needed someone to do the
same to him. Amid the sounds of choking and gasping for breath by their other classmates, and the
mumur of other students who went to the scene out of curiosity, Harry and Ron just stood still in
the middle of the long corridor looking at the direction Madam Pomfrey had disappeared with
Hermione and Ginny, hearing nothing else but the heavy pounding of their hearts.

For Harry, it wasn't only pounding. It was crying.

-->



4. Ears and Fears
-----------------



**Chapter 3**

Ears and Fears

**“I**s she going to be allright?” asked Harry very anxiously to Madam Pomfrey an hour later
in the hospital wing. Harry and Ron took long to rid themselves of sticky dust back in Gryffindor
tower, as requisite to be allowed inside. Ginny had already left the hospital wing for her next
class.

“She's still unconscious,” replied Madam Pomfrey as she looked at her patient, “but the good
news is that I found no real lasting damage to her, initially. What only concerns me is what her
condition could be when she comes to.”

“What does that mean?” said Ron.

“Well, she had one real big knock on her head when she hit the floor; she could be confused for
a while just after she wakes up. Then we'll see how her mind does for a few days and we then we
can know she's fully okay.”

“That sounds like she might crack up?” Harry said, getting more worried. “How can you tell?”

“I've experienced many cases similar to this,” said Madam Pomfrey, choosing to ignore
Ron's whimpering. “It's not just about the knock of her head to the floor - the accident
was magical. Every spell, every wand - it's different. The effect can cause worse cases, like
what Mr. Weasley's wand did to Gilderoy Lockhart years ago, but in some cases they turn out to
be nothing. And you said she was complaining about her wand not working the way it should,
haven't you?”

“Yes, but I don't' really know for sure. She might have been not concentrating enough
and thought it was defective.”

Madam Pomfrey nodded and bit her lower lip. She knew very well that having a magical accident
caused by a perfectly functioning wand was trouble enough, but with broken wands, anything could
happen terribly out of sync. Harry's statement did not make things clear to her at all; unless
she got all the facts right about the true nature of the accident, she would not know the full
extent of the effects it has caused on Hermione.

Madam Pomfrey could only sum up the best answer she can give Harry at that moment, since he was
the one who seemed to be the most worried, doing her best not to make him troubled even more and
not to sound too optimistic about something that was still unknown. Nevertheless she prayed
Hermione would be spared from deeper danger - she had grown to really like this student. She
didn't deserve to be disabled for the rest of her life. She looked again at Harry and Ron, who
with the looks on their faces, appeared to be in the brink of faint from extreme anxiety.

“That makes me unsure of her future state - a bit,” she said broodingly, the best she could
explain to them. “There are so many variables to deal with when it comes to magical accidents. A
Healer like me doesn't have the magic answer to everything, Harry. We have our own limitations,
but I might just only be scaring you the way I talk - I'm not really sure. That's the
problem - no one's real sure. I always don't say everything's okay until I'm quite
sure about it - we work from the worst case to the best. Look, I'll stay on to her constantly,
Harry, and I will do the best that I can to heal her, okay?”

Madam Pomfrey's voice had become soft to the end, and she patted a hand on Harry's
shoulder and excused herself so that she could attend to her other patients.

Harry and Ron nodded uncertainly, and decided by themselves they'll just have to wait for
anything that may arise with Hermione's condition. For how long, they didn't have a clue.
She looked very peaceful as she lay there in one of the hospital beds, like she was just taking a
nap. Her bed was adorned with the best looking flowers students and teachers could conjure (like
they had when news of Hermione's fit in front of Snape weeks ago spread like wildfire). The
three students who had their relatives murdered were also admitted to the hospital wing to be given
forced sleep. Harry and Ron took chairs and sat down miserably at Hermione's bedside.

“Poor Hermione,” said Ron…

“Yeah.”

“No, I really mean, *poor* Hermione.”

Harry stared at Ron. “What do you mean?”

“Well, ever since this year's start of term she's been through a lot of trouble. Let me
refresh your mind: she became the favorite choice of an obsessed Oarling, then there's her lone
run-in with Death Eaters just to prove I hadn't tried to kill Dumbledore. Next she was almost
eaten by an angry dragon, then *this*! What next?”

“Oh, I never thought that, collectively at least, but I think the Dragon thing doesn't count
because it turned out to be Norbert.”

“Luckily! But I bet she was so scared when she thought it was just another Dragon,” Ron pointed
out. “That was awfully traumatic, you know.”

“I suppose so, and add the fact that she's become very emotional - and sensitive - with just
about everything. She used to be so cool and always in charge.”

“I'm scared, Harry,” Ron said slowly. “I'm so scared for her. I'm beginning to
regret I've been so mean to her with all the great things she done for me? I never got to thank
her for it.”

“Ron, you sound like she's dying,” Harry said, getting a little annoyed. “Stop talking like
that.”

“Yeah…sorry,” replied Ron guiltily. A short bell rang from outside, which signalled 20 minutes
have already gone through classes, the limit of being considered late. “We've just missed
double Potions.”

“Just about the subject we're always willing to skive off…”

“And you're excused, Mr. Potter and Weasley,” said Professor McGonagall from behind them.
Harry and Ron jumped; she had just come in the hospital wing to look at her students. “Professor
Snape was furious you'd be absent today, but I took care of that. How is Miss Granger
doing?”

“Still - sleeping, Professor,” said Harry. “But we'll stay with her until she comes to.”

McGonagall looked at Harry and Ron with admiration for a moment, having witnessed their special
bond for years, but being a strict mentor got back to her again. “You know the rules, boys; miss
two consecutive classes a day unexcused - that's Transfiguration for you, and I'll have you
both suspended!”

Harry and Ron groaned. They had been hoping to be excused with just about every subject for the
rest of day because of what happened to Hermione, but they quickly took that desire off after
realizing that was being cruel to a friend who had just been brought in for injuries to use her as
an excuse. Professor McGonagall, however, softened up again and patted Harry on his back
gently.

“Don't worry about her, Potter,” she said delicately, “I know she's very strong. I have
every confidence with Madam Pomfrey's abilities.” Harry nodded with appreciation.

“Professor,” said Ron tentatively, “Professor, we've been kept in the dark about what's
happening outside the school because of classes - any more news of what's happening
around?”

“None, fortunately. But as you have known, Mr. Weasley, for this morning alone, about five
wizards and witches have been murdered apparently by Death Eaters. After fifteen years of calm, it
looks like You-Know-Who's usual activities are beginning to make a comeback - this has been the
most significant murders with the Dark Mark ever committed since the last one, which was the murder
of your parents, Harry.”

“It's bad that the wizards they killed just now were all related to Hogwarts students,
right?” said Harry. “What do you think this means, Professor?”

“Coincidence, perhaps,” said McGonagall, as she glanced towards the other beds containing the
students who just had their parents murdered, feeling genuinely uncomfortable. “We won't know
for sure until we see more of these murders and disappearances like we had experienced before. Oh,
Merlin! You don't know how it felt to live in those days - it's happening all over again.
You boys better be careful from now own. Don't you go into stupid little adventures, will you?
Heaven forbid, you'll know for sure how it felt like then - very, very soon, I expect.”

“There was an Order once who stood up against You-Know-Who,” said Harry after remembering what
Hermione shared to them earlier. “I'd like to know more about them, though,” he said
determinedly.

“What are you talking about, Potter?” McGonagall said, looking surprised. “Where did you hear
that rubbish?”

Harry and Ron were taken aback for a moment. For them any group who formed against Voldemort
could not have been referred to as nonsense. “Hermione told us she read about it in a book,
Professor,” said Ron unhurriedly. “*Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts*.”

McGonagall breathed deeply for a moment and she went into a hasty smile. “Oh, of course, of
course,” she said with an uneasy laugh. “Quite a girl, she is, isn't she?”

Harry and Ron looked at each other with puzzled faces. Harry, however, had ideas coming to his
mind, like finding out what this so-called Order was.

“Well, I almost forgot why I came here in the first place,” McGonagall said with a significantly
regained composure. “I have to know what really happened in the Defence Against the Dark Arts
classroom. You two were closest to the accident so, please, I'd appreciate it if you could fill
me in.”

Harry did most of the talking; he reconstructed everything from Professor Russelpunk's
entrance until the fateful accident while McGonagall took notes.

“Do you have Miss Granger's wand, Harry?” she said, and Harry took Hermione's wand out
from his pocket and gave it to McGonagall. She examined it and murmured a few words while she did
so, until, “Her wand looks fine to me, but it's best if she complains about this to Mr.
Ollivander - he's the expert - he may just replace it with a much more effective one. Our wands
have a lifetime guarantee though there's always another waiting to choose us if needed.”

Just then, they whipped their attention to Hermione, because they had felt she had moved.

“She's back, Harry, she's back!” said Ron happily though with some apprehension.
Hermione indeed had moved, and she turned her head over her pillow slowly to her right. She
gradually opened her eyes. She looked unaware as to her whereabouts; her eyes tried to focus on
Harry for a few moments and then she breathed deeply.

“Hermione, can you hear me?” Harry said carefully. However she didn't respond thru words,
but stared at him and Ron and back slowly, as if she didn't know who they were. This scared
Harry and Ron even more.

“Why isn't she responding?”

“Don't worry about that,” said Madam Pomfrey, walking over towards Hermione's bed and
feeling her pulse, feeling excited that she now at least had shown signs of activity. “She just had
a strong accident so she's a little confused - she won't know where she is or who's
talking to her but it's natural - very temporary. The good news for the meantime is that my
latest test results indicate no apparent damage on her brain or any part of the body, but
she'll have a real nasty headache until tomorrow, at least.”

“No apparent damage?” Harry repeated. “That means she's not out of the woods yet?”

“That's right,” Madam Pomfrey nodded. “I won't truly know after we can both have a nice
little conversation, Potter. By then you can be sure you'll be the next to know. Please come
back on your next free time besides lunch. I need to attend to her - alone.” Madam Pomfrey
didn't wait for any more words from Harry and Ron. She shooed them away and quickly hid herself
and Hermione behind the curtains surrounding the bed, which closed out their view of her
completely.

Harry felt even more anxious for any definite news was still left hanging. Ron shook Harry's
arm and gently jerked his head towards the exit sympathetically; Professor McGonagall patted Harry
and Ron's shoulders as she steered them both gently out of the hospital wing.

-o0o-

It seemed to be the longest one and a half hours of doing nothing off classes for Harry and Ron.
They kept on looking at the clock, wishing it would go faster until the next break time that
afternoon so that they could see how Hermione was again.

Harry was the most affected of the two with Hermione's accident. He couldn't believe
something terrible as this could happen so suddenly, threatening to change everything. He
remembered it was only this morning that he had been with Hermione soothing her to stop her from
crying, and then for what seemed as an instant she was now lying on a hospital bed. Harry
couldn't take off the persisting memory imprinted in his mind of Hermione looking up at him and
not knowing who he was - it was just too painful to bear.

Harry had thought of writing to Sirius to at least take some of his awful feelings off his
chest, but no words came into his mind to put into parchment. He later only settled for a few
words, though, and his letter read:

*Padfoot,*

*New murders. Hermione seriously hurt in class. Fortress out there. Everything's getting
crazy before Christmas. We need to talk. Don't know how.*

*Harry.*

“Are you done with that yet?” said Ron, his head slumped on his desk, holding his own letter to
his parents. “C'mon, let's send these before lunch.”

Harry and Ron had walked to the Owlery and were met with a long queue of anxious students
braving the snow outside leading towards it. For them they have never seen such a sight before in
their lifetime at Hogwarts.

“What the…” said Harry, dazed at the amazing sight.

“All of the school owls have left,” Neville told him. He stood and waited along the line holding
a rolled piece of parchment. “Everybody's scared. Seems to me everyone's trying to write to
their families to ask about how they are. I'm asking Grandma how we could slip out off
King's Cross without stumbling into Death Eaters.”

Luckily for Harry and Ron they didn't have to wait in line for the next available owl. All
they had to do was call down Hedwig (and Pig for Ron) from her perch. When Harry's snowy owl
had landed on his forearm, quite a few students had spotted that and they ran towards Harry begging
to have their letters sent, too, using Hedwig. Fearing of being swamped, Harry and Ron ran out of
the Owlery and as far away from it as they could. While they ran, they hastily instructed their
owls what to do and let them fly off very quickly, leaving some exasperated students standing in
the middle of the field away from the queue.

“That would have been a crazy mob, that was,” said Ron, catching his breath along with Harry at
the castle side entrance. Their unexpected exercise did something good, at least, because they both
finally felt genuinely hungry and decided they really needed to eat lunch.

The Great Hall was always filled with hungry students during lunchtime everyday, but today was
different for it was only half-filled (half of the student body was still out at the Owlery). At
least Harry and Ron didn't feel it to be overcrowded while they ate their lunch in silence. It
was still only Day One of Voldemort's new terror campaign and Harry already saw the abrupt
change of life in Hogwarts that he had known and gotten used to for more than four years. How much
more if this could he see if it was drawn out, he thought. He didn't want to think about it,
and hoped much like the others this new war of wizards would end quickly on his side's
favor.

Fred and George transferred their plates from their places to the front of Harry and Ron. “I
heard Fudge's going to Hogwarts tonight to make a personal announcement at dinner, Harry,” said
Fred quietly.

Harry and Ron looked up at Fred and George, puzzled. This was highly unusual. The Ministry of
Magic was going out of his way of work to address a school? He could have just sent an emissary in
his behalf.

“Any idea why he has to do it himself?” asked Ron.

“Get real, Ron!” said George. “If we did, then everybody would already know about it and
he'd be canceling travel plans.”

“It could be important to him,” considered Harry. “Maybe we'd get answers soon, or he'll
be giving us instructions how to band together and fight You-Know-Who.”

“That's a little bit dangerous, if you ask me,” said George grimly. “One, we're still
toddlers on what we know about magic compared to You-Know-Who; two, there are dung piles in
Hogwarts like Malfoy who'd be happy to report to their Death Eater parents everyone signing in
to fight You-Know-Who; and three, Fudge still refuses to believe You-Know-Who's back,
remember?”

“Then what's the reason he'd be coming here then?” said Ron.

Fred and George just stared at Ron, rolled their eyes, and walked off.

“To make an *announcement*, Ron,” hissed Harry.

Ron looked at Harry shamefacedly.

“Look, Harry, we could probably stand up against You-Know-Who if the whole of Hogwarts joined
forces,” said Ron as they walked to Transfiguration. “And then with graduates, some.”

“I don't really know why I'm not so sure about that,” Harry said. “I mean, look at what
Pettigrew did - he killed a dozen Muggles with just one spell once, and he's a blundering bloke
compared to You-Know-Who. I bet You-Know-Who can wipe out every student in Hogwarts in a heartbeat,
a thousand to one.”

“I think you're overrating You-Know-Who already, Harry, you now seem to be pessimistic
anyone could really beat him,” Ron said, with a hint of gloominess in his voice. “You've faced
him quite a few times, right? And the last time we faced him we survived, didn't we?”

“We escaped without giving him a scratch, Ron,” Harry corrected. “On the contrary we were
literally beat up. We got lucky.”

“Oh, okay,” said Ron slowly. “But maybe the next time *he* won't be as lucky.”

“We'll have the chance, Ron,” said Harry encouragingly, stopping at the middle of the
corridor. “It's probably not the time yet, but we'll ultimately kick his arse, I'm sure
of it. We're always one against him, aren't we? Stay strong together?” Harry held out a
hand for Ron to shake. Ron looked at it for a while, and broke into a big smile.

“No need to say it, Harry, but what the hell…stay strong together, we do!” He took Harry's
hand, shook it, and they both pounded their chests with each other's fists. Ron's was a
little strong for Harry, though, causing Harry to miss a lot of air and Ron apologized all the way
to Transfiguration.

-o0o-

About a quarter hour into Transfiguration with the Gryffindors and the Hufflepuffs, Professor
McGonagall noticed her class didn't pay her full attention to follow through her lessons. Just
about everyone looked pensive.

“Remember, class, your O.W.L. tests are coming,” she said irritably with her hands on her hips.
“I don't really like the learning attitude you're showing to me right now. Keep on with it,
and you'll have less O.W.L.s than you thought you could get.”

“Please, Professor, we're still in a bit of a shock after this morning's news,” said
Justin Flinch-Fletchly timidly. “We still don't know what to expect what would happen now that
You-Know-Who's back - we were still babies then when he was on his peak.”

“Oh, for heaven's sake!” said a male Hufflepuff student loudly at the back of the class. “Do
you really think the murders were the work of You-Know-Who, Justin?” He then stood up from his seat
and shouted to the whole class, “Do you really believe he's back because of some random
killings out there? It could have been the handiwork of a copy-cat to throw the Ministry of Magic
off…”

“Yes, in fact he does,” interrupted Hannah Abbot angrily (she had a new strip of band-aid on her
forehead). “Me…just about everyone does. The signs are there, Zach! What more do you really want
for proof?”

“Quiet, please,” said McGonagall calmly.

“What signs, Hannah?” said Zach, ignoring McGonagall. “They're just deaths, mysterious
deaths! Nothing's happening out of the ordinary!”

“What about the week before last - the Death Eaters at Hogwarts rounding us up in the Great
Hall?!?” reminded Hannah, her voice even more rising. “Don't tell me you think it was nothing
out of the ordinary! I colorfully remember you wet your pants!”

Most of the class broke into laughter.

“They weren't Death Eaters - they were bad Ministry Wizards!” Zach pressed to escape
embarrassment. “And, oh! You're trying tell me you also believe Potter's stories about
meeting You-Know-Who face to face, this year and last, in a rinky-dink fortress in the middle of
nowhere?”

Harry could not take it any longer. One more such rebuttal was enough after so many. He stood up
and made a furious move towards Zach.

“If you have a problem with that, Zach, I don't care! Just shut up! Just shut up! I was
there - Ron, Ginny, Hermione - we were there! We were lucky to get out alive!”

“That's rubbish!” Zach yelled. “And you know it!”

“*That's enough*!” roared McGonagall. Harry and Zach still looked at each other in
daggers while the whole class watched them in silence. “Back to your seat, Potter. I said
*back*!” she said, pointing him to his seat.

Harry angrily went back to his desk and kicked it out of alignment.

“One more of that and I'll have you sent to the Headmaster, Potter,” warned McGonagall. “Mr.
Smith, I don't want any more unwarranted outbursts in my class, *do you*
*understand*?” she then said, her face red with rage. Zacharias Smith slumped back on his seat
with his arms across his chest, looking cheeky.

“Then what do you think, Professor?” Zach asked forcefully after a few seconds of silence.

“What do I think of what, Mr. Smith?” said McGonagall, looking back at him with her nose flaring
and her lip thinning like a strand of thread. Sensing the professor would snap his head off the
next time he did that again, he repeated his question, but this time significantly milder.

“What do you think about You-Know-Who? Is he really back on a rampage like everybody seems to be
stupid to believe?”

McGonagall stared at Zacharias Smith for a long time, and that effectively calmed the boy down
fully, satisfying Ron.

“The news we heard today from are still under investigation and it is for the Ministry of Magic
to decide if it is truly the work of You-Know-Who,” McGonagall said, walking around slowly in the
room and looking at all of her students.

Harry heard someone say “Ha!” and he bet his glasses it was Zach, and he didn't want to know
further lest he'd turn him into a baboon.

McGonagall ignored Zach, and talked on.

“The Minister of Magic, Cornelius Fudge, has notified Professor Dumbledore this morning he will
be personally making an announcement to the student body and faculty at dinner, but the subject of
the announcement is still unknown up to this time until we hear it.”

There was excited talk among the rest of the class, but Harry and Ron didn't already find
that as a surprise.

“But take this from me,” continued McGonagall, now facing the whole class, “that I truly believe
You-Know-Who, a.k.a. He-Who-Must-Be-Named, is again making his presence felt, and we will see more
terrible things to happen in the near future as it was before you were born.” Virtually the whole
class moaned and groaned with increasing fear; though McGonagall had said her credible piece, there
were still some remnants of unbelievers left in the ranks.

“His fortress - You-Know-What - what does it look like, Harry?” asked Seamus, who was seated a
couple rows behind him.

Harry regarded him for a moment then looked around the class. He saw all eyes and ears were upon
him, then he turned his gaze towards McGonagall as if to ask her if it was okay to answer Seamus,
and he got a curt nod from her. He sighed.

“It was bigger than Hogwarts,” Harry said initially. “It was of dark blue-grey color, made of
stone, mossy - very gloomy - storm clouds, lighting everywhere, dark skies…it had a very high tower
reaching up to the clouds…”

“And dungeons…” added Ron slowly.

“And Dungeons,” repeated Harry. “Lord Vol- I mean, You-Know-Who had a throne room as vast as the
Great Hall, and he was flanked by Death Eaters wearing masks and white robes. They laughed with
glee while we stood up in front of You-Know-Who in the middle of the throne room. Mirthless
laughter all around. Hermione was screaming in my mind, accusing me of causing her death. He almost
had me - if not for Ron.

“Then I heard You-Know-Who say from this fortress he'd rule the wizard world this time with
an iron fist, and those who opposed him will suffer no less than death…Muggles will learn of him
but they will be too late to react. He will commit genocide - Muggles, and Muggleborns will be
either turned into slaves…or killed whatever he fancied…”

Some of his classmates gasped and cried in horror upon hearing this. Harry told his story while
he stared vacantly at a spot on the floor. His memories in the Dark Fortress came crashing in his
mind, enveloping his thoughts as if it was happening all over again for real. He had learned how to
forget them, but once he'd remember it again out of the blue, the whole experience would take
over his mind again like a dark cloud. He could not understand why fear had always accompanied this
certain memory even though he didn't fear saying Voldemort's name, and that it was strange
his recollection of his first encounter with Voldemort in the graveyard was not as profoundly
terrible as this.

But still he kept talking about it.

“Monkey-like creatures called Imps,” he continued, “they populated the fortress; they were
scary, had very sharp claws and teeth. They were fast - thousands of them - really fast…surrounded
us…b-bored down on us when we ran for our lives. W-when we tried to escape up the tallest tower,
and we could only see endless ocean all around - but earlier we stood on dry grassy ground going in
to the castle. It seems once you got in, you can never get out. If we weren't rescued by
Hermione with a dragon she knew, we would have been eaten by the Imps raw…Dementors would then suck
our soul…and…and…”

Harry felt a hand gently clasp and squeeze his shoulder. It was Professor McGonagall gesturing
him that he had told his story enough - he then heard the air around him return. It seemed while he
relived his terrible experiences in Xanthius, sound had completely vanished. He looked around, and
he saw his classmates stare at him with frightened faces having heard his story: Susan Bones'
lower lip was quivering, Hannah Abbot was whimpering. Dean Thomas looked pale despite his dark
skin, and Neville, well, he had fainted. Fear had won over the whole classroom. Harry had been
talking for only a minute, but to everyone it felt like time had stood still.

Shortly there was a knock on the door. Madam Pomfrey had gotten in the classroom without anyone
noticing her. “Excuse me, Professor McGonagall,” she said. “Hermione has fully regained
consciousness - she's all right, and she pleaded to see Harry and Ron as soon as possible.”

Without ever looking at McGonagall anymore, Harry and Ron quickly passed Madam Pomfrey and ran
as fast as they could towards the hospital wing.

-o0o-

Harry could have embraced Hermione on the spot with extreme happiness of seeing her sit up on
her bed, but he had to take hold of himself fearing he might hurt her even more.

“I'm so glad you're all right, Hermione!” said Harry breathlessly, holding a stitch on
his side. “I thought I'd really lose you!”

“Oh, Harry, it was just a little accident, but thanks,” Hermione giggled. She straightened
upright with difficulty; Ron helped her up and turned the bed crank to give her the right amount of
recline.

“A little accident?” said Ron as he returned to her bedside. “Madam Pomfrey even looked so
unsure over you.”

“Madam Pomfrey said I was lucky though,” she said, feeling tired of her exertion. “I don't
know why, perhaps the spell was pretty powerful enough to knock me out cold.”

“And the whole classroom,” Ron reminded Hermione. “What did she say about you after you came
to?”

“She said I'll live, of course, but she warned me to watch out - after she gave me more
tests she said I might get occasionally confused at times in the coming weeks - it goes with such
accidents, according to her.”

“Did she say for how long?” said Harry, his eyebrows furrowing with new concern.

“For a few minutes at times; but a couple of months or so it will just go away, definitely. Ow!”
Hermione grimaced in pain and pressed her hand over her forehead, having another extreme
headache.

“And a few big headaches the coming days to boot…” she added. She closed and opened her eyes,
and panted slightly.

“And no more permanent damage, I hope,” Harry said, fighting the urge to hold Hermione's
head for her for a while or not.

“No…No permanent damage, Harry, she promised me,” Hermione said with slight difficulty, closing
her eyes again and laying back on her bed to help take away the pain off her head.

Harry looked on at Hermione sadly. Despite Hermione's assurances about what Madam Pomfrey
told her, he still felt she still was not all right and she would still have loads of problems
ahead of her caused by her accident.

“I think you need to get more rest - we must go…” he said slowly.

Hermione's eyes snapped open. “Go? Rest?” she said, sitting upright again. “Don't be
silly. I want to talk - I'm bored to death here…what's happening around here? What was it I
wanted to ask you…oh, have you already talked to Dumbledore, Harry?”

Harry dropped his breath and laughed softly. “Oh, *that*. The Christmas holiday
thing…forgot about that after what happened…no, not yet. Later, I guess. Or tomorrow - when I'm
ready.”

“It's Thursday, Harry, you need to talk to him today or tomorrow,” reminded Ron. “He
probably just wants to ask you to bring him something back from vacation.”

“Another one of your brilliant theories, eh, Ron?” said Harry, finally laughing for real. With
Hermione's insistence, Harry and Ron filled her in with the events that she missed today,
including Fudge's plan to come over to Hogwarts the following night. Hermione found that the
most intriguing.

“Hmmm, I wonder what he'll say tonight, but I bet it's about the murders and probably
some words of comfort,” she theorized. “I really, really need to listen to him tonight…”

“Oh, no you're not, Miss Granger,” Madam Pomfrey said severely as she entered the hospital
wing. “You're not going anywhere until I say so.”

“Please, Madam Pomfrey, please?” pleaded Hermione. “I got to hear everything he has to say - it
might become a historical speech especially with what's happening lately and I want to be part
in it.”

Madam Pomfrey snorted. “Historical? Hmmphh. I find his speeches pretty dull if you ask me. Fudge
is no Dumbledore, Hermione, you stay. End of discussion,” she said with finality and she walked off
to a faraway potions cabinet. Hermione sunk deeper under her blanket in disappointment and closed
her eyes again.

“We'll just repeat everything he said for you, Hermione…” said Harry, though he was not
really sure if he could ever recall everything Fudge might have said tonight because his speech
would probably drone on for hours. Hermione's face had screwed up again with pain on her head,
and what Harry could only do was look on at her helplessly. He started to fix her bed spread so
that she could lie down more snugly; Ron had noticed that, too, and he walked over to the other
side of the bed to do the same thing. Hermione had opened her eyes again and noticed what they had
done, and she beamed at them in appreciation.

Madam Pomfrey had returned with a steaming goblet of liquid with the color of vomit (Ron
suddenly turned nauseous when he saw it).

“Hermione, you have to take this,” she said gently, handing Hermione the goblet, “and I have to
ask Harry and Ron to leave you again to rest for an hour - by then you'll be awake again in
time for afternoon break when they could visit you again…”

Hermione glanced at Harry and Ron apologetically.

Ron said, “Don't worry, Hermione, we'll be back at break time. Sleep well, sport, okay?”
They wouldn't leave her at all until she had drunk her potion and she had sunk into a deep
sleep - it took a slightly long time because she seemed to refuse to take Harry and Ron off her
sight, but soon the effect was so powerful she had to give way at last.

-o0o-

Harry and Ron walked out of the hospital wing pensively towards Divination despite the huge
relief they felt after talking to Hermione again. After seeing what she had gone through today,
Harry thought he wasn't doing something enough to help make her recovery come quicker. There
could be something at least he could do, he thought, to make her happy once more, the usual path to
healing.

He pondered hard as he walked along with Ron (who was also walking silently like him); Hermione
pleading to Madam Pomfrey to hear Cornelius Fudge's droning speech tonight was his strongest
memory. If only he could think of something to help her get what she wanted…the most obvious idea
for him was to spirit Hermione off to the Great Hall, but he knew very well that not only Madam
Pomfrey will roar like a lion and hang them by their pinkies under the sun when she'll discover
Hermione's empty bed, further activity on the part of Hermione was obviously detrimental to her
health. With no more wild ideas to consider, Harry hoped Ron had something good in mind.

“You know I think Hermione really wanted to hear what Fudge would talk about tonight,” said
Harry, “but, you know, I wish there is something we could do to make her happy for a while.”

Ron didn't answer at once, because he, too, was thinking of the very same thing. Harry
thought he was at a loss like him, but soon he had a passing memory of some gadgets his twin
brothers had been working on that could prove to be of real use.

“Harry, tell you what, let's look for Fred and George - they could have something that might
solve our little problem.” Harry nodded excitedly upon Ron's words, and they hurriedly combed
the grounds for any sign of Fred and George.

Finally, they spotted two identical heads of hair in a thick crowd of students at a long hallway
and fought their way through it. Upon reaching them, Harry did the talking and he explained their
own little problem and asked if they had anything to help them out of it. They got their answer in
an instant. After happily rummaging inside their bag full of experiments, Fred fished out a pair of
ears that looked made of rubber.

“Erghhh! Whose head did those come from?” said Ron, looking disgusted with the objects that
looked like severed ears to him.

“You could've seen the blood and tissue on them before I washed them, bro,” said George in
satisfaction of seeing Ron's face. “They're called Extended Ears, beta models.”

“Oh, good, what does it do?” Harry said, genuinely interested.

“What it does is it lets you hear every spoken word at a remote location from a distance,”
explained George quietly. “It's simple, just stick this ear like a bug, and place the other ear
on your, er, ear, and *voila*! Instant eavesdropping! Perfect for Unspeakables and Aurors.
Range is a thousand yards even through the thickest of walls; price to be announced very soon.”

“You two seem to have a very good sense of timing,” said Fred next, looking around, “because we
were about to get rid of everything you see in this bag minutes from now - Filch's got word of
new “Illegal objects” that wasn't even on his current list of illegals. We don't want him
getting his hands with our prototypes; we have everything in our heads anyway.”

“Oh, this is really great, guys!” said Harry very cheerfully. “They're perfect! Hermione
will be happy with this - she won't have to miss Fudge's speech…”

“What, you mean you went out of your way to hear a real dreary speech?” said Fred, looking
astounded, but in true Fred and George fashion they broke into a huge smile again.

“When do you need them back?” said Harry.

“No need, it's yours!” Fred said. “And don't start on me,” he said again after seeing
Harry open his mouth to say something, “because this is absolutely nothing compared to learning the
secret of the Pocket Portkey, and we still have to repay you for your huge favor.”

Harry grinned broadly, because he didn't know what to say.

“Don't you worry about it, we're serious, but we require you to fill in these survey
forms after trying them out,” George said, giving him and Ron each a questionnaire about Extended
Ears.

“Oh, great, more work to do!” moaned Ron, dropping his breath in disappointment.

Harry nudged his side with his elbow and Ron quickly said, “Oh, it's a great deal, guys!
Thanks.”

The twins then walked off with extreme sense of fulfillment, happy they had helped Harry, Ron,
and Hermione in a “very difficult” situation.

“They're so cool, aren't they?” said Harry, looking behind Fred and George warmly as
they walked further away. Ron examined the Extended Ears very closely and wondered where his
brothers could have gotten the money to develop these.

“Harry gives them a Portkey and they give us homework…” grumbled Ron under his breath.

-o0o-

The class bell rang at the hall and Harry and Ron rushed for Divination, now with something to
look forward on to surprise Hermione later. Their lessons had advanced to the art of card reading,
depending on how anyone would look at that as progress. Professor Trelawny, as usual, kept on
interpreting death for Harry in his own stack of cards. Though she always sounded very credible
because of the way she talked, Harry chose not to listen at all, having known Trelawney to predict
his weekly deaths for more than two years that she had used up every word combination that they
became very repetitious. Except, of course, his classmates - because of the recent murders, they
now seemed to be paying attention to her and almost believed every prediction thought of, which
worried him a bit.

After what seemed like hours again of anticipation for Harry and Ron, break time had arrived.
They hurried back to the hospital wing and were glad to see Hermione had woken up again, looking
refreshed. In addition, Fred and George's Extended Ears really made Hermione's day.

“Testing, testing,” said Ron's voice on the Ear piece Hermione held.

“It's working perfectly,” she said happily. “Thanks a lot guys, did you really do this for
me? You both are so *sweet*.”

“Actually,” said Harry awkwardly, “Fred and George did, but without Ron here, we would have
never thought they had something as great as this.”

Hermione kept on listening to Ron, who went inside another room in the wing and spoke on the
other piece he had. Whatever Ron said through the Extended Ears made Hermione roll about on her bed
with laughter. It was a real big help because, for Harry, seeing laughter come back to Hermione
again was a joy to behold.

Harry believed the return of the horror that was Voldemort would be nothing as long as his
special bond and friendship with Ron and Hermione would not be broken. He actually thought that
this friendship had slipped away from him again (because of Hermione's accident which might
have caused something so terrible that he was powerless to do anything about it), but he was again
feeling very fortunate this wasn't the case. For Harry, the loss of Hermione would be too
devastating - a disaster for him that was almost impossible to comprehend.

When he thought of the possibility, he felt tears drop out of his eyes and he wiped them off
quickly before Hermione could notice.

-->



5. Mounting Problems
--------------------

*****Chapter 4:** “Mounting Problems” ***

Dinner was now almost over at the Great Hall that night and Harry saw Fudge had indeed traveled
to Hogwarts as expected. Harry and Ron had promised to Hermione back at the hospital wing to turn
on the other end of the Extendable Ears in the Great Hall in order for her to hear Cornelius
Fudge’s speech after dinner.

The Minister of Magic sat beside Dumbledore at the teachers’ table and they seemed to talk at
each other in a businesslike manner from afar. Harry remembered that the last time he had seen
Fudge and Dumbledore together in the exact state was in the hospital wing just after his brief but
terrible encounter with Voldemort. They weren’t talking so friendly during that time. On the other
hand, they both had been cordial when he, Ron, and Hermione was presented with an award earlier in
the term when they destroyed the Oarling, but for tonight it was totally different because Harry
had not seen them smile at each other the whole night. Fudge might have just felt obliged to come
over to Hogwarts because of something important to him.

“Dumbledore and Fudge don’t look friendly at each other much,” said Ron, who was also observing
them. “I wonder why?”

“I guess we’ll find out real soon,” said Harry darkly. “Everyone’s finishing up dessert.”

Sure enough, the moment they have anxiously awaited all afternoon came at last. Harry took out
his piece of Fred and George’s Extended Ears from his pocket – the other half was back in the
hospital wing where Hermione was definitely holding it up over her real ears at the very
moment.

Dumbledore stood up on his chair and everybody stopped talking.

“Now that we have finished our wondrous feast for tonight,” he said, “I’m sure you are all
anxious to hear what the *current* Minister of Magic, Cornelius Fudge, will be saying.” (Fudge
had suddenly stopped smiling and threw a look at Dumbledore)

“So I won’t keep you hanging on to suspense much longer – ladies and gentlemen, let’s welcome
Minister Fudge…” he extended a courteous hand to Fudge, giving him the floor. Fudge, however, still
looked affronted about something, which the students would’ve mistaken him as just being grim, but
not Harry. Notwithstanding, the whole school greeted the Minister of Magic with a big round of
applause.

“Good evening, young witches and wizards of Hogwarts,” said Fudge, again switching to a festive
smile. “My, oh, my, it’s been a while since I last stepped on the grounds of this very, very
prestigious institution and it is always a pleasure to be here. I never tire of reminiscing my time
here as a student like you sitting there in one of those stools, listening in to the Minister of
Magic making his speech. Ah, yes, I would have never dreamed I’d be addressing the whole faculty
and student body as the Minister of Magic, yes, and I’m quite sure one of you young lads and lasses
will become one just like me in the future, in the same situation, and you will understand how it
is to feel this grand, significant moment.”

There was scattered applause from the students and it died down fairly quickly. Ron hissed to
Harry, “What I now understand is what Madam Pomfrey *meant* about his speeches.”

“I know you are all befuddled by my sudden visit here,” Fudge continued his speech, “and I offer
you my sincerest apologies for not telling you sooner why I had to be here, but there’s something
that I believe I need to do personally. It is crucial in order to maintain unity among ourselves,
and the peace and order of the wizarding world in these seemingly difficult times.

“You’ll be soon going home for an *enjoyable* Christmas in a couple of days and I must ask
you to listen closely and then make it a point tell your relatives – I urge you - friends, and
anyone you know within the wizarding world what I will say tonight – because this is very, very
important and you need to do your part to help the Ministry with its noble work. I have been very
busy going around meeting authorities, the press, and flooing around to various capitals in the
wizarding world to disseminate information about the current events including the recently reported
unfortunate deaths of some wizards and witches this morning…”

“Get on to the point,” muttered Ron impatiently, and Harry nodded.

“…and it is now become very popular belief that the deaths have been caused by murderous Death
Eaters in the service to He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. It has been reported that at the places of the
untimely death of these people, the Dark Mark, which has not been seen for 15 years (except the one
made by a misguided house elf last year at the Quidditch World Cup), has been spotted. I am quite
aware that this information was released by no less by official messages from the Ministry of Magic
to their next of kin. It is now believed that these letters have become the basis - a sign that
He-Who-Must-Be-Named has returned.

“Nevertheless, I feel obligated to personally inform you, and this is why I am here, to tell you
that the information fed to you was a *lie*.”

The whole of the Great Hall then reverberated with mixed talk mostly with expressions of relief,
and others with added bewilderment. Harry and Ron looked at each other knowingly, because they both
believed that it was Cornelius Fudge himself who *was* lying. Dumbledore’s face was
expressionless as he sat calmly on his chair. Hagrid, McGonagall, and all faculty members on the
other hand looked at Fudge darkly except Russelpunk, who was wiping his sweaty face, obviously
relieved.

Fudge raised his hands to ask everyone in the Hall to return their attention to him. As the talk
died down again, he went on with his address.

“Yes, I know it is confusing, to say the least, because the so-called ‘official letters’ were
sent by Ramius Palkov, one of the disgruntled employees in the Ministry of Magic who have had wild
fantasies that You-Know-Who is truly back, which is very deceiving as I can attest to you the
wizard world is as peaceful and safe as it was after You-Know-Who disappeared forever, thanks to
one of your classmates, Harry Potter, who is with us right now.”

Fudge clapped with a few students at Harry’s direction, and even though Harry heard him mention
his name, he wasn’t at all delighted about it. In fact, it even made him much angrier with Fudge
for using him in his lies.

“These disgruntled employees, including Palkov, have since been sacked, and I promise you, they
will never again sow confusion and tell falsehoods under the flag of the Ministry. They have
escaped and gone into hiding and they are now wanted by the Ministry of Magic. Furthermore, his
accomplices have been identified as the suspects who conjured the Dark Mark to confuse the public,
which is instantly punishable by our laws. They will also be investigated in connection to the
recent murders. Tomorrow, in the Daily Prophet, their faces will appear to help track down their
whereabouts and they will be slapped with appropriate charges. We need your cooperation with this
matter and any information leading to their arrest will be rewarded handsomely.

“I know today’s events have brought untold stress to everybody here, and I apologize in behalf
of the Ministry of Magic for the actions of our employees. I hope you will have a very wonderful
vacation ahead knowing that there is nothing to be afraid of. Live on normally as if nothing has
happened, and a happy Christmas to all of you.”

All of the students who were convinced of Fudge’s speech broke into wild applause and didn’t
hide their relief by going into hugs and handshakes. Those, however, who were still confused at
least and weren’t still certain about everything just didn’t make any show of emotion. Dumbledore,
for one, just clapped his hands together slowly out of courtesy, but looked enraged. Harry felt the
same way as he did; the Weasleys didn’t buy it at all, especially Ron and Ginny who had seen
Voldemort for real.

Harry caught a glimpse of Zacharias Smith, who wore a face that was drawn with vindication,
strutting past his house mates who opposed his views earlier in the day. Hannah Abbot looked darkly
at Zach from behind and had to be restrained by Justin Fletchly because she looked determined to
hurt him real bad. Next he saw Fudge go over to Dumbledore and they both walked together out of the
Great Hall at the teacher’s access way, apparently towards the Headmaster’s office for a possible
conference.

“I can’t believe this is happening,” said Ron. “I *don’t* believe this is happening! I
can’t wait to hear what Hermione has to say about this…”

“Hermione…hear…” Harry thought, and looked at the Extended Ear he was holding.

Then it struck him. He bent over to Ron and hissed, “Ron, I just had an idea. You’re scheduled
for detention with Dumbledore after this, aren’t you?”

“Yeah, that’s right,” said Ron, listening attentively. “Why?”

“Suddenly I found it real interesting to know what they might be talking about in Dumbledore’s
office tonight... You could plant this ear inside his office so that we could listen in to their
conversation…”

“That one’s easy, but what if it’ll be discovered?” said Ron anxiously. “We can’t just budge in
Dumbledore’s office to get it back any day.”

“You still have until tomorrow’s detention to retrieve it, right?” Harry said impatiently. “Just
hide it behind a stack of books or something. This is our perfect chance.”

“Oh, that’s right. I agree it’s getting really intriguing,” said Ron mischievously. “We’re now
acting like Aurors, cool! Give the ear to me, I’m reporting in…gimme…”

“Okay,” said Harry, handing Ron the ear. Ron pocketed it at once looking excited. “I’m sure
Dumbledore will excuse you for tonight because of the meeting, and we’ll meet back at the hospital
wing and we’ll eavesdrop from there. Be careful, will you?”

-o0o-

Harry and Ron had separated at the exit to the Great Hall; Harry went straight to the hospital
wing to visit Hermione where they found time to discuss Fudge’s speech while they waited for
Ron.

“I’m appalled with Fudge’s denial about the murders being Voldemort’s handiwork, I could’ve
missed the rest of the speech,” said Hermione, looking incensed. “I almost dropped the ear to the
floor with rage!”

“I’m sure it’s caused more confusion than ever,” said Harry as he sat down on a chair beside
Hermione’s bed. “Wait till the Daily Prophet tomorrow. One thing I expect, if Voldemort really owns
up to the killings and does go into a complete rampage, Fudge will surely have a hard time
regaining his credibility, if ever! Can’t say I’d worry about it; everybody won’t give a damn about
him anymore, then.”

“Serves him right,” Hermione huffed. “I wonder how Fudge looked like when Dumbledore said he was
the *current* Minister of Magic, I bet he was furious!” she said next with glee.

“Now, that’s the understatement of the century,” said Harry after getting Hermione’s idea, and
they both laughed. Just then Ron came in the hospital wing, looking satisfied.

Ron had come back from Dumbledore’s office.

“You were right, Harry,” he said proudly, “Dumbledore and Fudge are in there for a meeting –
McGonagall’s there, too, and Fudge’s, er…small party. Dumbledore told me I was excused for
detention tonight, so I quickly planted the bug behind a shelf on the way out. I’m sure the thing
was in a good spot.”

“Way to be, Ron,” said Harry happily, but he noticed Ron still looked sweaty and uneasy. He
turned to Hermione, who on her bed was holding Extended Ear near her right ear, listening in. Harry
and Ron went over to her to have their own ears closer to the gadget, too, but the surprised look
on Hermione’s face halted them midway.

“Hermione, what is it?” said Harry interestedly.

Hermione looked back at him and said, “You won’t believe this, but Dumbledore and Fudge are
yelling, Harry!”

Harry and Ron moved closer eagerly to Hermione to listen in to the ensuing conversation in
Dumbledore’s office using Fred and George’s Extended Ears. The reception was crystal clear; they
could even hear everybody’s breathing, though that didn’t distort the sound at all in any way.

“…what I don’t like very much, Minister,” said Dumbledore forcefully, “is how you’ve caused my
students to think that those cold-blooded murders were the work of others for in fact real Death
Eaters had committed them at the first place?”

“They were killed by copycats, Dumbledore,” yelled Fudge. “Imitators!!! There aren’t Death
Eaters left walking around anymore – the Ministry of Magic had rounded them all up 15 years ago -
with the exception of Sirius Black who’s still at large, that is, but we’re hot on his trail, I
promise you.”

“These are the work of Death Eaters under the orders of Lord Voldemort!” Dumbledore retorted.
“Telling the aggrieved families of these victims otherwise will be an insult to the recently
deceased. Please, Minister, please do not keep on denying the fact that he has returned and will
again cause untold discord and mayhem among us very, very soon. It won’t help us in any way. The
students will be going home for Christmas and will tell their friends and relatives what you have
fed them. This will create undue complacency, which is a very dangerous thing considering that
everyone who does not know the truth about Lord Voldemort will not be so vigilant. You know how
Lord Voldemort succeeded in acquiring wizards and witches who were completely unaware they were
being used for his terrible plans…”

“Yes, I am quite aware of their old modus operandi, Albus,” interrupted Fudge, with impatience
in his voice, “But I don’t want to create paranoia within the wizarding world with something that’s
just made out of someone’s wild imagination. The people will never buy that at all; I will lose my
job if I spread mere theories without hard facts. It seems the only basis you have are the
testimonies of four students who have claimed to have been in a so-called fortress of You-Know-Who,
much like the outrageous story of Harry Potter last year. I do not find that very convincing at
all, and I’m sure it’s the same for the public. The recent deaths with the Dark Mark hovering over
the scene of the murders do not specifically confirm You-Know-Who is back!”

“And three of those students you refer to are secret recipients of the Order of the Unicorn
award,” said Dumbledore, “which may I remind you that you have personally bestowed them this term.
And in case you preferred to forget, that also one of them is an honorary member for Underage
Wizards of the Ministry of Magic. I do hope those recognitions would hold weight to their
testimony…”

“No difference at all,” interrupted Fudge again. Harry, Ron, and Hermione looked at each other
in disappointment, especially Hermione who was the honorary member mentioned. Fudge did not appear
to believe anything that would contradict him and they felt that whatever Dumbledore told him
tonight he would have none of everything. Still, they hoped the Minister could still listen to
reason.

Dumbledore sighed. “*Yes*, it does. I have seen even more evidence to confirm Lord
Voldemort is indeed alive besides my students’ solid testimony, Cornelius. Xanthius truly exists
and will be a force in itself to reckon with. Take a look at the fresh murders, for instance. Death
Eaters don’t murder their victims and then conjure the Dark Mark without the explicit knowledge of
Lord Voldemort…”

Harry and Hermione heard a clanking noise, and they bet it was Fudge losing balance upon hearing
Voldemort’s name too much too many. At least they found that pretty amusing in a potentially
explosive exchange, if one didn’t consider their meeting volatile already.

“He disappeared in Godric’s Hollow 15 years ago,” said Fudge after regaining his voice, “Never
to return! If there are indeed Death Eaters on the loose, and I bet my gavel there aren’t any, they
would probably feel free to conjure the Dark Mark anytime they want because they don’t have to
answer to You-Know-Who, because he *does-not-exist* anymore!”

“There are still Death Eaters walking dangerously among us, Cornelius,” confuted Dumbledore,
this time calmly, “Even the Ministry of Magic has been infiltrated already by Death Eaters, the
extent of which is unknown…”

“That’s total lunacy and absolutely far from the truth! I’d like to know how you are sure of
that, Albus. Are you telling me you know more about my work and the people under me?”

“No, I perhaps I do not, Cornelius, but I do have my own sources, and they are to be believed.
Just last week, if you *choose* to remember, Hogwarts was almost taken over by Death Eaters,
and that is not supposed to happen. I’m quite certain for a very open ministry like you have back
there in London it isn’t much of a challenge.”

Fudge roared in anger. “How dare you, *you* *bloody old*…”

“*Mugwump*, Cornelius,” cut Dumbledore in evenly, but menacingly. “I’d strongly suggest you
finish your sentence with that term.”

There was a moment of silence before Fudge started talking again, suggesting he might have been
stunned with Dumbledore’s words; Harry and Ron looked at each other again with grim satisfaction,
hoping that reminded Fudge he was no match with Dumbledore if he opted to threaten him with
magic.

“Albus, I am fully in control with my staff and my Ministry and I promise you it is very
spotless and well managed!” Fudge said next, his voice slightly quivering. “The so-called Death
Eaters you’re saying were Ministry wizards with police powers mistaken as such, and I personally
sent them here to provide security to the school due to your and the Deputy Headmistress’
incapacity. You don’t seem to appreciate the good job they had done. I’m quite sure once those fine
men would have heard your remarks they will not feel very happy at all being called Death Eaters.
I, for one, am insulted by your insinuations, Albus.”

“I am unwavering in my knowledge that the Ministry Wizards you sent the week before last were
mostly Death Eaters, Cornelius. On the other hand, about those Ministry Aurors you fired; you must
recall them…”

“Recall them?” exclaimed Fudge. “Galloping gargoyles! After they have been marked as the
culprits and now wanted by the law?!? You’re thinking like a lunatic, now you are, Albus! Demented!
It’s out of the question! The people now want their heads! I’ll look entirely ridiculous in front
of the public of being indecisive!!!”

“All I can say is that you been utterly misguided,” said Dumbledore, as if Fudge hadn’t said any
word of insult. “It’s still not too late to do something to rectify that slight oversight. They
have been one of the most ardent of all Aurors I have ever known, ever since the time of two of
your predecessors. I am fully aware that they have identified many Death Eaters who have
infiltrated the Ministry a long time ago and doing so they have risked their lives and of their
families to unmask the real traitors from within your organization. Is that how you repay them –
framing them of the crime made by the very people who they have vowed to protect us from? Please
don’t tell me who not to call your people Death Eaters and Aurors, Cornelius, for I know them more
than you do. Isn’t that true, Horace?”

Harry didn’t know who Horace was, but he surmised Dumbledore had talked to one of Fudge’s party
in his office. Only that he had heard that name before somewhere recently. He wasn’t sure how this
Horace reacted to Dumbledore’s query.

Fudge spoke again. “What is that supposed to mean, Albus? Are you insinuating Horace Whipple is
a secret Death Eater, too? Ha, then I know you have really lost your marbles and making things up,
old man, because Horace has been one of my most trusted since I stepped in as Minister of Magic.
His record speaks for himself and it’s spotless.”

There was another moment of silence; it wasn’t clear to Harry, Ron, and Hermione why Dumbledore
decided not to pursue it.

Dumbledore then breathed for a moment and said “Then may I at least know, Cornelius, who had
tipped you about the fired Ministry wizards as being the offenders of the recent murders?”

“It is for me and my staff to know and for you to find out, Albus,” Fudge said tersely.

“Lucius Malfoy, perhaps?” suggested Dumbledore.

“Preposterous!” shouted Fudge. “Lucius Malfoy is one of, if not the most credible and the most
honorable man the Ministry has ever known! His contributions to the Ministry are innumerable and
priceless. He is not a Death Eater and what he says has weight to everything and…”

“Equal to the weight in gold he has given to date I presume…”

There was another roaring sound, apparently made by the now incensed Minister of Magic.
“*You’re getting out of hand, Albus*!”

“Oh, you misunderstand me, Cornelius,” said Dumbledore serenely. “I certainly did not suggest
Lucius Malfoy was a Death Eater, did I? I was just hoping you’d say the information he gave was one
excellent addition to his greatest contributions in the history of your term, aside from all the
monetary donations he had unselfishly provided you. Just imagine, he single-handedly unmasked all
the Ministry Wizards who murdered those people and conjured the Dark Mark to confuse the wizard
world? That, to me, is very brave and dignified of him and nothing to be angry about, of
course.”

There was another pause in the conversation, this time the longest of all. It seemed that Fudge
had thought deeply on Dumbledore’s words, which appeared to him as ambiguous.

“Yes, he was,” he admitted shortly, opting for the most obvious message. “He gave very credible
testimony and that was basis the ministry wizards were identified as the guilty ones – one of his
most noble contributions, indeed. That is no secret, after all.”

“Thank you, Cornelius. I regret this meeting of ours has brought more strain to our relations,
which I have no wish to complicate further. If you still have some concerns that you want us to
talk about tonight, you may do so before we part.”

Fudge cleared his throat. “Yes, Albus, I still have a few. Now that you recognize there is
really a strain in our professional relationship, as Minister of Magic I require you not to
contradict any more of the statements I make in public, even among the students of this
school.”

“Noted. I find it no problem with that with regards to the public in general. However, I would
like to remind you that as Headmaster it is my responsibility and prerogative to teach the students
what I deem fit, Cornelius. If in any case that you, the undisputable Minister of Magic that is, is
proven to have meddled with my operational autonomy in Hogwarts, it will be grounds for your
impeachment, as provided by law.”

“Way to go, Dumbledore!” cheered Ron at the hospital wing.

“We shall see about that, Albus,” said Fudge breathlessly. “I will be meeting with the school
Governors to discuss the running of this school. I remember quite well I have mentioned that in our
other meeting last year, but you leave me no choice but to push sweeping measures in order to bring
Hogwarts into line with the Ministry’s full mandate. I’m sure we will meet again soon, hopefully
with a decision.” Fudge walked off and stopped midway enroute the door.

“Next term I shall also dispatch wizards coming from the Ministry to Hogwarts and open an
enforcement division to police the school,” he said. “I *know* what you have in mind, Albus.
Rumor mongering shall be stopped, and I will not stand for any attempts from anyone, that includes
you, to form any radical opposition groups out of the students and their relatives. Violators will
be dealt with swiftly. I will soon send you some additional names for your acceptance, as it is
*my* prerogative as Minister of Magic to send as many as I want for purposes you have no power
to object to.”

“Very well, as long as they keep the peace and they don’t physically and/or verbally abuse my
students, Cornelius,” replied Dumbledore. “You know the other rules by law.”

“Goodbye, Albus, and Minerva.”

“My pleasure, Cornelius,” replied Dumbledore curtly.

“Minister.,” said McGonagall. It was the first time she talked during the entire meeting.

“Whipple, Weaselby!” called Fudge, and there was sound of more feet walking and the door
closing.

“Come, Minerva,” said Dumbledore warmly to McGonagall, “I’ve had enough formalities for today;
there is a very sumptuous scone I’d like you to sample with me at the kitchen…” Harry, Ron, and
Hermione heard them walk out to the door shortly.

But before the door was shut again, they heard Dumbledore say, “Good night!”

Harry, Ron, and Hermione quickly exchanged puzzled looks. They didn’t know who Dumbledore talked
to, but Harry supposed it was meant for Fawkes, Dumbledore’s pet phoenix. However, that was the
least of their current concerns.

They did learn something out of the conversation tonight, thanks to Fred and George’s excellent
(and weird-looking) invention – that during the next term not only they will have to deal with the
threat of Voldemort from the outside, but also they would deal with the unknown brought about by
the arrival of the “ministry wizards” at the inside. The bad thing about it was, like they had
thought earlier, that Fudge’s mind was so closed to any suggestions that he had Death Eaters among
the ranks of the Ministry. They bet he won’t lift a helping finger if the time comes the students
and staff of Hogwarts will be threatened by them for real.

Hermione took off the Extended Ear from her ear and looked at Harry and Ron. The two boys wore
worried expressions on their faces. “I can’t believe Fudge’s so determined to distort the facts,”
she said.

“That’s not what’s worrying me,” said Harry, frowning. “It’s Fudge’s word about sending in
wizards to Hogwarts from the Ministry next term after how it’s been infiltrated by Death Eaters.”
He turned to Hermione, who was thinking deeply about something. He remembered about Hermione’s
scuffle with Death Eaters at Diagon Alley when she bravely defended the only object that
single-handedly cleared Ron for a crime. “You’ve been in the Ministry once, haven’t you, Hermione?
What was it like then?”

“Yes, I was, in one of their detachment offices,” she replied, “and some wizards conned me by
pretending to be Aurors - they turned out to be Death Eaters! If I’ll ever go in there again, I
won’t be sure who’s working for whom anymore. It’s just like what Sirius told us in Hogsmeade last
year, isn’t it?”

“Yeah.”

“How do you thing Olga is doing right now?” wondered Ron, recalling the Auror that they had made
friends with during this term. “I remember she was bent on unmasking Death Eaters the last time we
saw her.”

Hermione’s eyes went round with anxiety after realizing that. “D’you think she was also sacked?”
she said coarsely, “That would be bad, at least for us and Dumbledore, isn’t it, Harry?”

“I hope not! We’ll try to ask her soon, but I expect some kind of a shuffle within the Ministry
coming. Fudge is really too favorable with Lucius Malfoy, isn’t he? See how he believes everything
that prat’s telling him? I’m sure Lucius Malfoy ordered Death Eaters to kill the victims and then
framing the Aurors to the crime. I wonder what else is going on in his mind right now…”

Hermione murmured while she brainstormed. “He’s in a vindictive mood, I think, because of his
recent trial. I bet it’s payback to the Aurors who involved him to Jack Chadron’s recent escapades
– but he truly was involved and we can’t really prove it. I’m willing to bet Fudge’s plan to open
an office here in Hogwarts was his sick idea, too!”

“And probably naming all the people who’d be sent here,” thought Harry loudly, “that’s a real
big possibility. What for, do you think?”

“To infiltrate Hogwarts again after their last attempt, I guess,” sighed Hermione, leaning back
her head on her pillow and closing her eyes. She had felt another wave of headaches, but that
didn’t stop her from thinking further theories. “That’s the most obvious thing. Could be part of a
grand scheme for Voldemort, or just to make our lives more difficult – we won’t know until the next
few days or weeks if we discover something.”

She then snapped her eyes open, as if a bright bulb flashed above her head.

“Remember what I said about Voldemort’s secret servants? Fudge’s reason for setting up an office
here is curiously the same – that’s to stop anyone from ever forming a group! That could be one of
Lucius’ motives, too. But, get this: I think Fudge’s motive is personal, at least. He might think
Dumbledore is out to form an army of his own against him to take over his job.”

Harry rolled his eyes and whistled. “Then if that’s true it’s him who’s paranoid, and he’s
allowing himself to be used by others. If Lucius is behind that, seems to me what he really wants
is to put a plug on any resistance against Voldemort – you’re right. Hogwarts is such a good place
to start!”

Hermione felt glad Harry got the idea, showing that he has grown aware of the dangers posed
during this time. Perhaps this would convince him not to be very reckless about his decisions from
now on. “That’s right, Fudge can’t see that because he doesn’t know what he’s doing and he’s too
busy worrying about himself.”

“Dumbledore doesn’t seem to object to have some outsiders here, though,” said Ron angrily,
squeezing Hermione’s pillow real hard, which caused her to pull it back under her head with extreme
annoyance. “It’s just like he’s allowing Death Eaters to walk in to gain a foothold!”

“I admit that’s strange, but that about sums up the plan in just a few words,” said Harry, “but
I want to believe Dumbledore might have a few tricks behind his beard.”

Ron and Hermione nodded in agreement. They all hoped Dumbledore was not getting short sighted to
give the enemy the chance to slip right past and attack them from behind. Since they refused to
believe that at all, perhaps it wasn’t true. After all, he was their real leader.

“Harry, we got to be careful,” said Hermione very seriously. She sat upright on her bed to
really take a good look on Harry. “We got to watch out especially next term. Having these wizards
who’re likely Death Eaters will pose a lot of problems for everything we do. They really might have
a more sinister reason why they’ll be coming, but I still can’t make it out.” She pounded her
already aching head back softly against her pillow, looking frustrated of not being able to come up
with at least something close.

“It’d be arrogant to think they’re here and do all this trouble just to kill me,” Harry said
with a quick tight smile, seeing her think hard. He then sat down on Hermione’s bed side, facing
her, and she looked back at him in a way as if she had just realized something terrible.

“But that can’t be ruled out, Harry,” said Hermione, looking scared now. She grabbed Harry’s
hand gently. “We’ll consider that possibility, though Voldemort might want to commit that himself
with his own hands, but let’s not be caught off guard. There’s something else and we need to know
what. One way we could protect ourselves is to stay one step ahead of them.”

Harry was startled a bit when he felt Hermione’s squeeze his hand even more tightly. Her palm
became slightly sweaty. She wasn’t talking about the three of them, he suddenly thought. She was
talking about him – the look on her face indicated her fear for losing Harry again. He looked
straight on her brown eyes, which was now staring back his own determinedly. There was a tinge of
sadness on the look of Hermione’s eyes that he could not explain and it made him feel equally
sad.

“Harry…Hermione?” Ron interrupted slowly. “You two look real funny when you’re staring at each
other for a minute.”

They broke their eye contact. Harry fumbled with his glasses as it fell downward because of his
sweaty nose; Hermione, however, did not take her gaze off Harry and her eyes determinedly followed
Harry’s every head movement as she tried to regain their eye contact again.

Trying to recover himself, Harry said, “*We’ll* be okay, Hermione. As long as we’re…one for
all and all for one, yes, that’s it.” Hermione smiled slightly as she nodded and looked
apprehensive again.

“Sounds like the mantra of the three Mouse Eaters,” said Ron, “but that’s good enough!”

“Musketeers, Ron!” corrected Harry and Hermione at the same time.

Then they all shook hands together. Harry and Ron had exceeded visiting hours for fifteen
minutes and Madam Pomfrey shooed them both out, leaving Hermione alone in the hospital wing again
for the night.

-o0o-

Harry woke pretty early the next day feeling less refreshed. The day before was mostly filled
with anxiety (and the stress that came with it) he was practically drained of strength just as he
slumped on his bed to sleep. He opened his eyes the widest he could muster, feeling eight hours
wasn’t enough, but he had to be up for the last day of classes this term.

As he reached for his glasses, he heard some grunting at the end of his four-poster. He looked
around to see who it was. It was Ron, still in his pajamas, and he was taking out his suitcase from
under his bed.

When Ron noticed Harry was awake he said, “Oh, good morning, Harry, I’m just starting to sort
out my things – I’m so excited – I haven’t gone home for Christmas at all for four years!”

Harry then was reminded he hadn’t talked to Dumbledore yet to ask permission to go home for the
holidays. He breathed deeply and plopped back on his bed, hid his head under the pillow, and
pounded the mattress with his right fist.

”Harry, what’s wrong?” said Ron, bewildered. “Did I say something?”

“Irmverd hdstiltak tehdumdore,” said Harry’s voice from under the pillow.

“What?” Ron said. He shook his head, walked to Harry’s bedside, and yanked away the pillow
covering his head.

“I remembered I had to talk to Dumbledore today…” Harry said miserably.

“Oh, but there’s no problem, is there?”

“I hope not, Ron, but I don’t why I’m so *anxious* about it…”

Ron laughed. “Like I said, mate, you’re just making your own problems! Get it on with and talk
to him! He’ll let you go! Let’s dress up and eat breakfast…” He pounded Harry with his pillow.

As Ron gathered up his clothes and started off toward the bathroom, whistling out of tune. Harry
turned his gaze to the white sky outside the window. He noticed it snowed heavier than usual last
night and he wondered if he’ll ever see the same window every morning for the next three weeks in
case Dumbledore forbid him to leave Hogwarts.

The thought was again like torture, and he could not understand it. Four years ago he had told
himself that nothing would make him leave Hogwarts for years if he were given the freedom to choose
- Christmas, Summer, or whatever. He had always believed there is no place like Hogwarts, but
Hogwarts without his friends was another matter.

*What’s life without my best friends?*, he rephrased in his mind. Next it hit him, though
softly: he was scared of not enjoying Ron or Hermione’s company this Christmas. He’d be alone,
talking to none but himself (except with the ghosts but that wasn’t very exciting). *No, no, no,
Harry!,* then said his mind’s voice. *There’s more to that done just their company. You’re too
afraid to lose them forever.* Harry kept staring at the window, not aware he was nodding to
himself.

*- Yes, yes.*

He deduced his fear may have grown on him subconsciously in Number Four Privet Drive each summer
when he was virtually imprisoned for months at a time in Dudley’s second bedroom. He was too busy
lamenting with himself each time he withered with boredom in the bedroom back at Little Whinging,
but in truth he had been longing to be reunited with Ron and Hermione, and rightly so of meeting
them after his yearly ordeal, everything seemed to fall back into place at once.

Then Dumbledore’s voice replayed in his mind. Harry remembered what he told him early this term
about his friendship with Ron and Hermione. “*Every time I see you and Hermione together, I am
always convinced that I have never seen such an aura much more brilliant than you possess around
yourselves than any other group of people I know in my whole life. Neither with your parents nor
Lord Voldemort and all of his minions put together…”*

(Harry still missed the gap between his name and Hermione, unfortunately.)

Harry managed to smile to himself as he kept on staring still. He laughed softly as he thought
that if he had to face a new boggart, he knew what it’d turn into.

But there were other things that kept crossing his mind. Most prominent was a pair of nice big
brown eyes – real caring eyes, like the ones he had stared on last night. He loved the look of
them; it made him feel whole. He then closed his eyes lovingly. His thoughts expanded to a vivid
face that he seemed to love looking at more each day…*and* *what’ll it be like running my
fingers through those nice long brown hair – would it feel nice to the touch…*

Harry’s eyes snapped open. He felt suddenly scared. This was not supposed to be. His mind had
drifted to some unknown territory, not until now had he explored it. *Why am I thinking like
that?*, he told himself angrily. He thought it just wasn’t right thinking of Hermione like
that!

*Why, was that Hermione I’ve been thinking of?* It only *looked* like her*…*

*- It’s nothing, kiddo, you had just woken up and you still felt sleepy,* replied his own
voice in his head.

*Yes, yes.*

*- Your friendship with them is more important than a silly little romantic fantasy,
right?*

*Right.*

*- But didn’t it feel breathtaking embracing her so closely down at the hall
yesterday?*

*Er…*

*- Kidding! Christmas?*

“Dumbledore!” he groaned, when his most immediate concerns had crossed his mind. Harry smashed
his head several times on his battered pillow – he had to go through meeting him today, otherwise
he wouldn’t be with Ron and Hermione this Christmas. He had to know.

He became furious with himself for being so negative about it but he could not help it. He
realized he had to see him whether he liked it or not, and he hoped the answer would come very
quickly. He closed his eyes tightly and said to himself under his breath, “*Get it on with,
Harry, you cynical bastard*!”

He dressed up unenthusiastically. Before he would go to the Great Hall for breakfast, he decided
he needed to drop Hermione a visit at the hospital wing to see how she was doing. However, when he
got there, Hermione’s bed was empty.

“She’s been released this morning, Harry,” said Madam Pomfrey after seeing Harry’s surprised
face at the doorway.

“Oh, so that means she’s now really okay, isn’t she?” said Harry expectantly.

“She’s still not fully out of the dark, I’m afraid.” Madam Pomfrey walked over to Harry, whose
face dropped.

“Nothing to fret about, Harry; she’s virtually healed, I can tell you that now without any
doubt. She’s very lucky to be recovering quite rapidly, though she needs to drink some potion I
prescribed for her everyday for the next couple months and it will be like nothing had
happened.”

“Why? What’ll it be like for her for the next couple of months?”

“She will suffer some slight confusion sometimes, just minor – the potion will do the work.
It’ll wash off the effects of the magic still lingering in her brain.” Upon seeing Harry’s eyes
going round, she said, “Don’t worry, it’s just natural, she won’t go over the other end, I
guarantee you that.”

“Okay…I suppose. But Madam Pomfrey, what do you really mean about ‘slight confusion’”?

“In rare occasions she won’t be able to recall some things during the last hour. It’s not
constant – it would just come so suddenly. I didn’t dare tell her it might affect her studies when
that happens because she might have freaked out. So be warned, don’t be mad at her for missing a
date.”

Harry forced a laugh, but he blushed profusely. He thanked Madam Pomfrey for taking care of
Hermione and walked back towards the Great Hall, where he met Professor Russelpunk just about to
enter the big oak doors.

“I’m sorry for what happened in class, yesterday, Mr. Potter,” said Russelpunk in a manner
opposite to his usual flair. He was now walking normally; Madam Pomfrey had clearly mended his
broken shin. “Is Miss Granger all right now?”

“Oh, yeah, she’s fine, Professor, thanks.” Harry felt happy with Russelpunk for being thoughtful
and very modest as to say sorry for something he had not clearly done. “But, sir, it was not your
fault. Hermione’s wand just isn’t working right, possibly.”

“Well, that’s…true, I guess” he said with uncertainty in his voice. “Miss Granger really rescued
me from looking like a fool yesterday – I just learned Professor Snape had wanted my job for many
years now – thus, the lesson plan he gave me.”

Harry failed to control himself and laughed. He could not help but think of Snape sneering as he
was writing the lesson plan in his office for Russelpunk. Russelpunk, however, knew what he was
thinking about and laughed along with Harry.

“Sneaky, isn’t he, Snape?” sniggered Russelpunk. “Harry, I hope you won’t say anything about
this to anyone, but I’m not really good in thinking of what to teach next. Perhaps if it would not
be so tactless after what happened to Miss Granger, I would like to ask her - and you if it’s okay
- to assist me in planning my lessons for the next term?”

Harry looked at Russelpunk with mounting respect. Teachers wouldn’t dare ask from their students
to help them think of what lessons to teach – it would be a sign of great weakness and incompetence
on their part. And to think before Russelpunk would ask the person first he looked for help, he had
asked Harry first what his opinion was before he’d done so. Instead of seeing Russelpunk as lacking
of ability, Harry felt he really deserved all the help he could get to become successful with his
teaching job. What the other students saw with Russelpunk was a lumbering bloke just trying to fit
in with them - Harry saw sincerity and humility in him.

“I’d be delighted, sir, and I think Hermione will be, too,” said Harry. “But please don’t take
that as a yes from her now yet, of course.”

Russelpunk beamed.

“Thanks, Harry,” he said, “I’ll ask her later. Have a nice breakfast.” They both walked together
inside the Great Hall. Harry stopped at his usual place where Ron and Hermione were already eating
their breakfast together.

“Oh, that’s so nice of him to ask help from his students,” Hermione said after Harry told her
about Russelpunk. Harry felt another rush of joy seeing her gradually going back to normal, though
she seemed slightly frail.

Another emotion, however, came over to him: shame. He could not help feel guilty of thinking
about running his fingers through her hair. They’ve been real good friends for years and thinking
of such things might affect that negatively in the long run. He liked his relationship the way it
was now…*maybe*. He thought if he worried about other things he’ll probably just forget about
it eventually.

“And it’s a curious coincidence last night in the hospital wing,” Hermione added, “I decided to
have a little fun thinking up suggestions of future lessons for Russelpunk.”

“You call that fun?” scowled Ron, as he munched his bacon loudly. “I feel lucky he hadn’t
mentioned my name.”

Harry’s chance to worry about other things other than his outlandish feelings with Hermione came
when he saw Dumbledore was now eating his breakfast at the Headmaster’s chair. At first he had
already decided to approach Dumbledore and ask his permission to go to the Burrow with Ron for the
holidays, but as he lifted himself off slightly from his chair, he became suddenly indecisive and
sat back down.

Hermione had noticed Harry was fighting with himself.

“There he is, Harry, it’s your chance to ask him now…it’s perfectly okay. Go on.”

Harry nodded nervously at Hermione but hesitated. He thought Dumbledore was enjoying his
breakfast that asking him abruptly might cause him to deny Harry what he wanted. He then decided it
was not the perfect time.

“It’s not the right time,” he said airily to Hermione. “I’ll do it later.”

“What’s wrong with you?”

“Nothing…I still have all day…”

Harry’s next chance with Dumbledore came in after lunch when he saw the Headmaster walking back
to his office in the corridors. Harry went forward and back on the same spot he’d been standing on,
trying to decide to go for it or not. He could not understand why he was so afraid to ask him, but
perhaps it was the fear of not getting what he wanted, he thought.

Recognizing that, he breathed deeply, got hold of himself, and walked towards Dumbledore for
real, determined to get this over with and now. He had gone within at least a few yards of him when
Professor Snape stopped to talk with the Headmaster. Harry thought asking Dumbledore then would
prove to be unfavorable to him because Snape might mischievously influence his decision, and he’ll
be told to stay. Harry rounded up the opposite corner away from their sight, leaned back angrily on
a wall, and scratched his head in disgust.

*Don’t worry, Harry, you still have half the day to do it,* he told himself.

He, however, had the afternoon full of classes and did something terribly wrong in Potions he
was forced by Snape to scrub his table of spilled goo well after dismissal. The whole chore cost
him the whole free time running up to dinner. Hermione was furious with Harry. She still could not
believe it was already after dinner and he hadn’t talked to him at all.

“What’s the matter, Harry? There he is!” she prodded impatiently while they walked together in
the middle of the hall leading to the Gryffindor Tower. “*Get*!”

“I’m not sure, Hermione, I-I smell like goo…” Harry replied quickly as he felt a rush of panic.
“I’ll ask him after cleaning up…”

After doing a very swift bath, Harry really believed the time was just right to talk to
Dumbledore – he felt refreshed, calmer than ever, believing the hour just after dinner usually took
out the day’s stress out of people. He walked confidently along the corridors by himself leading to
Dumbledore’s office and…

“*There you are*,” said Angelina Johnson scathingly from behind Harry.

Harry stopped abruptly and winced, suddenly remembering it was Friday night, and turned around
slowly to face her. He completely forgot Angelina had scheduled Quidditch practice tonight for the
whole team, and she looked like she’d absolutely refuse to take “no” for an answer. The rest of the
entire team stood a few steps behind Angelina, their faces looking angry, but not to Harry, but to
her. Fred and the new Chaser Thomas Milton had to restrain George, who looked deranged, from
knocking Angelina out from behind with his Beater. Harry actually prayed George could slip off
their grasp, but it didn’t come.

Angelina was completely unaware of the struggle behind her. “What is it with you, Harry? You’re
not even in your Quidditch uniform! Where’s your Firebolt?”

“Angelina, I’m really sorry, but I got to ask for an hour off practice today – I really need to
talk to Dumbledore,” pleaded Harry.

“Oh, that’s a new one! I don’t want to hear any more alibis from you, you hear?” she said, and
dragged Harry off all the way to the Quidditch stadium by the ears despite the danger of ripping
them off for real because of the freezing weather.

-o0o-

Harry had for several times been tempted to flee during practice when Angelina wasn’t looking,
(he did so at least thrice) but the school brooms were no match for Angelina’s Cleansweep Eight.
She always overtook him and threw him back inside the pitch each time. Worse, because he wasn’t
wearing his Quidditch garb (which had insulating magic in them) the temperature had dropped so low
that he felt extremely stiff.

Looking for the Snitch that had probably hidden somewhere to keep itself warm was next to
impossible. Angelina was bent on not dismissing the whole team for the night if Harry didn’t find
it at all. Only Fred and George had thought of a desperate idea near midnight by bewitching a tiny
snowball to make it look like a frozen Snitch and gave it to Harry. Angelina was probably too
sleepy then to notice that it was fake when Harry presented it to her (the whole team looked on
nervously as he did). It was already good for her and that was only when she called it a “day”,
much to everyone’s relief.

Harry knew what returning to Gryffindor Tower in the middle of the night meant for him – his
vacation was still left hanging. He thought perhaps he could still stumble upon Dumbledore at the
Great Hall for breakfast the next day before the 9:00 departure of the Hogwarts Express, but he
knew that was expecting too much.

Ron and Hermione were still awake playing chess waiting for Harry when the Quidditch team came
back to the Gryffindor tower. They were startled to see what looked like seven frosty snowmen
invading the Common Room.

“What the…” breathed Ron, aghast at the sight in front of him.

“H-Harry, you look cold!” cried Hermione. She rushed to him, and took out her wand. She pointed
it to Harry and muttered, “*Tempera*!” Hot air gushed out the end of her wand and thawed the
ice off Harry, drying him on the spot at the same time. Taking Hermione’s idea, everyone in the
team did the same spells and looked warmer soon after.

“T-Thanks, Hermione,” Harry said gratefully. “But for a moment I was afraid your wand might’ve
done a different effect…”

“Oh, sorry,” she said, feeling a little embarrassed. “I couldn’t stand seeing you in that state
I couldn’t get hold of myself – but it’s working perfectly fine lately.”

Harry slumped down on the couch, feeling drained. He looked up at Hermione with tired eyes.
“McGonagall still thinks you need to have that looked at, though.”

“I think she’s right. It does get annoying to keep thinking it’s not a hundred percent
reliable…”

“And that means not getting potential full marks in schoolwork, too…”

That effectively hit Hermione like a gong.

“I think I got to ask Mum and Dad for a new wand…” Hermione sat beside Harry shortly, fixed his
hair with her hand soothingly, and said, “Harry, I’ve given it a lot of thought - in spite of the
danger, you know, I’ve really given it a lot of thought and I guess it’s much better if you have
fun as much as you can than sulking about in Hogwarts, well, as long as you’re perfectly secure.
So, what’d Dumbledore say? Did he say yes to you already?”

Instead of feeling very happy about Hermione’s thoughtfulness, Harry felt extreme disappointment
coursing through him again for his failure to meet Dumbledore after having so many chances today.
There was no point in making them feel sorry for him before bed by telling he probably won’t be
able to get out this Christmas, he pretended not to hear Hermione’s question.

“I’m sooo tired. I’m going to bed - see you tomorrow…” he yawned, dragging his whole weight up
to the spiral stairs as Ron followed his lead. He hoped he didn’t act impolite with Hermione, who
was left sitting alone on the couch in the middle of the Common Room watching him sadly as he
went.

“Good night, my dear Harry…” she said under her breath.

-o0o-

**Next Chapter: “Kill the Mudblood!”**

**I will be back as soon as I can! Thanks!**



6. Kill the Mudblood
--------------------

DISCLAIMER: Please see Prologue Page

**A/N: This is the unedited version of the Fifth Chapter – I think it’s okay already. Passing
by a town that looked like it had an internet café around, I looked for a chance to slip off from
sight of my colleagues to release this (at least) to lessen the wait of the readers. I will know by
tomorrow if my working trip will be extended for a few days and if so, there won’t probably be
updates until the 12th of August. I’m asking for your patience – thanks!**

**So I hope this chapter is already okay and without mistakes! Please kindly leave a review! Or
just alert me of mistakes if there are any… thanks!**

**** Chapter 5 **** “Kill the Mudblood!”

Harry couldn’t believe it was already morning soon after he shut his eyes for sleep. He sensed
hectic activity all around him and he lifted his head to look around. Ron and the rest of his room
mates were already dressed and were rushing to pack up their things before breakfast.

“What’s up with you, Harry?” said Ron. He was trying to close his chest full of unfolded clothes
and junk with his full weight. “Get up and pack or else you’ll miss the train!”

Even though Harry had almost given up on the prospect of ever spending Christmas out of
Hogwarts, he did so with the thought he might still be able to see Dumbledore at breakfast. He was
resigned to the fact that whatever Dumbledore might say today, it would heavily lean towards the
negative and he would have to endure three weeks without Ron and Hermione.

He did pack up and dress up anyway. He finished fairly quickly – he had only quite a few
possessions to begin with. He stuffed Hedwig in her cage (much to her annoyance) and looked back on
his bed to see if he left something (“What’s the use – I could still be here today…”) and dragged
his luggage unenthusiastically toward the Great Hall for Breakfast.

Hermione was already there, surrounded by her bags of books, and beamed at Harry after seeing
him with his luggage. “So he really let you go – I’m really glad for you, Harry.”

Harry didn’t know if he’d feel bitter or happy about it, though he forced a smile back at her.
He couldn’t tell them anything yet until he could really be certain after he could speak with
Dumbledore. He looked at the empty Headmaster’s chair for moment, which was empty.

*He’ll be here soon,* he said to himself.

Time passed. McGonagall came and sat on her chair and started to eat breakfast.

*Any time now…I’ll see him.*

Still time passed, and still no Dumbledore.

Feeling increasingly worried, he asked Ron as casually as he could why Dumbledore had not shown
himself up to now.

“I heard he traveled to London very early this morning for some meeting,” he answered back, busy
spreading butter on his sliced bread. “Busy man, he is, even on Holiday vacation.”

Harry gasped after hearing Ron say where Dumbledore had gone to. Then that meant he would
absolutely not come back before the Hogwarts Express departed. No Dumbledore! *No vacation with
Ron and Hermione*. He was doomed to be lonely for the next three weeks. He felt like sinking
down to the floor. It was something he refused to accept but at the same time he was so furious
with himself! He had to do something about it. Was there? He had to decide if he’d allow himself to
suffer. Anything!

He didn’t have the time to ponder at all because Professor McGonagall had tapped him on his
shoulder. He quickly glanced at her, open mouthed, not knowing what to do or say at the very
moment.

“You didn’t see me yesterday, Mr. Potter,” said McGonagall bluntly. To Harry her voiced seemed
to be echoing around his brain and it sounded deafening to his ears. “I wanted to know if you had
already spoken to the Headmaster. Last night he told me to talk to you before breakfast…”

No word came out of Harry’s mouth. He didn’t know why, but he swore he tried to shake his head
at McGonagall, but what came out was a positive nod instead. She did not read Harry’s look on his
face.

“Ah, so you’re an early bird, too, that’s good. Did you fully understand his instructions?”

Again, he seemed to have lost his ability to control his locomotor function for a quick moment,
and he nodded again.

McGonagall considered him for a moment (her stare didn’t make Harry very comfortable at all),
and broke into a smile. “Very well, then, Harry, I suggest you *start* eating your breakfast
before you go to Hogsmeade Station. You will get hungry on the way. Happy Christmas and see you
after New Year.”

“Okay,” he muttered, still nodding uncertainly after McGonagall left. As he looked back on the
table, Harry noticed he hadn’t even placed food on his plate at all. Afraid of throwing up his
breakfaster later, he decided to skip it.

He had done it. He’d done something terrible as to lie to McGonagall just to spend Christmas
outside Hogwarts with his friends. Sure, he would have given up the whole world for that, but
what’s the use of a good time if he kept on worrying about being discovered by her and Dumbledore
to have sneaked off without permission and risked being suspended for dishonesty and
irresponsibility?

Harry knew Dumbledore would eat his head off. He would be so angry with him he’d kick him out of
disgust, literally. Suddenly staying at Hogwarts seemed like a good alternative after all.

Would he run to McGonagall and confess to her the truth? Still, she’d know he had lied and will
not like it at all and ground him. The damage had been done. Then he thought maybe he could get
away with it. Maybe, just maybe, Dumbledore might think McGonagall had given him the permission,
and vise-versa, that they won’t bother asking each other. That was a good possibility and he just
might be okay, he recklessly believed.

It was amazing for Harry, that when he had snapped back to reality, he was already inside a
compartment in the Hogwarts Express with Ron and Hermione as it steamed south. He could not
remember ever stepping a foot on Hogsmeade, much more boarding the train and choosing seats.
Hermione sat beside him, and she was looking edgily at him with deepening concern.

“Harry, you’re really worrying me,” she complained, “what’s the matter with you?”

“Huh, what’s the matter with who – what?”

“You’ve been moving like a robot since the Great Hall.”

Ron sat on the opposite seat in front of him, looking concerned, too.

“I was?” said Harry.

“Yeah, we thought you’d be overjoyed Dumbledore letting you spend Christmas away from Hogwarts,”
said Ron, “but instead it looks like it came to you as a shock!”

“Oh, no, it’s not that…look, I’m happy, see?” Harry said, grinning mightily. “Just thinking
deeply about something, that’s all. No, don’t you two worry about it.”

“We will if you keep acting like that all the time,” said Hermione. “Is there something worrying
you? Is it about the Death Eaters that might attack you?”

Harry stared at her for a moment and considered her statement. It could be the perfect alibi.
He’d probably feel worse if he told them he hadn’t really spoken to Dumbledore, so he chose not to
– just yet. “Yeah, yeah, but they can’t touch me, I assure you.” He gave her another quick smile
and looked away to the window, watching the countryside pass by.

“Well, okay, if you say so,” shrugged Hermione (Ron, however, didn’t seem convinced yet). “In
case you haven’t noticed an owl landing on your lap, I just got a late delivery of the Daily
Prophet. This is what Ramius Palkov looks like…” she handed the paper to Harry, who was quick to
grab it.

The front page sported a large moving picture of Ramius Palkov – he looked Russian, very grumpy
and menacing. The picture was accompanied with the following banner story:

“**Disgruntled Auror Behind Dark Mark Murders**

*Death Eater Wannabe’s on the Run from the Law”*

Harry shook his head upon reading the headline with no desire to read through the story.

“I bet they’ve not painted a good picture of him,” he mused.

“Ergh, it’s so horrid to read,” said Hermione, looking disgusted. “I can’t believe they could
destroy the career of a good Auror with such rubbish if they wanted to - just to deny Voldemort has
really returned and making him a scapegoat.” She bent down to release Crookshanks, who’d been caged
under her seat for a long time. “Strangely, though, it took them two days to release the
story.”

“I wonder where he’s hiding right now,” said Ron. “Do you think that’s why Dumbledore left
Hogwarts today?”

Hermione thought for a moment and said, ““It’s possible - there could be other reasons besides
that. Poor Palkov, I hope he’d clear his name in no time. But knowing Fudge, it might take more
than a large scale Death Eater attack to convince him otherwise, I’d say it would
take…*Ow*!”

Hermione quickly put a hand over her aching right temple, closing her eyes as the pain lingered.
Harry and Ron just looked on at her, doing nothing, because they knew what Madam Pomfrey had told
them about the headaches back at the hospital wing. It took some time for the pain in Hermione’s
head to subside; she breathed deeply as it went away and opened her eyes, looking ahead
listlessly.

“So, you were saying, Hermione…” started Ron.

She, however, stared at Ron and looked deeply confused. “I was saying what?”

“You said Fudge would probably be convinced Palkov is innocent if he takes what?”

Hermione frowned. “What do you mean, Ronald? I wasn’t talking about anything at all – I was
trying to go to sleep. Wake me when we get to King’s Cross, will you?” She took out a throw pillow
from one of her bags and snuggled up into a corner and shut her eyes.

Ron threw a baffled look at Harry, who quickly explained in an undertone what Madam Pomfrey had
told him about Hermione’s occasional states of confusion. Harry assured Ron it was nothing to be
really concerned about in the long run, though they both could not help it and looked at her sadly,
not believing this could happen to her even if just temporarily.

“You know, Harry,” Ron hissed, “you and Hermione having been really acting weird lately. It
seems like you both just came down from another planet…” He shook his head sadly.

Harry just shrugged in the hope of evading having to answer to Ron what was wrong with him. What
made Harry really more uncomfortable now was that this was the very first time he had seen Hermione
confused, and it was an unpleasant experience, especially for him. Even if he sounded sure about
explaining to Ron how impermanent Hermione’s condition was, he still had lingering doubts whether
it will stick with her or not. He had so many things going on in his mind to start with; he felt
suddenly sick upon witnessing Hermione’s confounded condition.

Somber was the prevailing mood inside their compartment all the way to King’s Cross. In each and
every train ride they had, Ron always proposed either to Harry or Hermione to play some wizard
games or exploding snap with him to kill time, but not this time. Ron somehow felt things might be
totally different from now on, and already missed the usual activities they had as a trio. Upon
seeing Ron’s face, Harry made a mental note to talk to him about it at the Burrow at the right
time.

The Hogwarts Express arrived at King’s Cross later at almost three o’clock in the afternoon.
Harry, Ron, Hermione, and the rest of the Weasleys fought through the crowd of overeager Hogwarts
students who’d been jamming the barrier to the Muggle World. When they emerged from the barrier
after much flowing and squeezing along with the crowd, Harry saw Arthur and Molly Weasley standing
together waiting for their children. To their right were Mr. and Mrs. Granger, who also traveled to
the station to pick up Hermione.

Harry suddenly felt a bit uneasy after seeing the Grangers, who were now hugging and kissing
Hermione. He didn’t know why he was so, because he was supposed to be happy seeing the Grangers
reunited after so many months of being away from each other.

Maybe it was the fact that Harry considered it was likely Mr. and Mrs. Granger was completely
unaware what their only daughter had been through in the last term. He felt a bit of sadness - if
he had not done anything right or if Hermione had not been lucky enough to escape certain death
from the Dragon or the Oarling, he would probably see a different scene today – Hermione’s parents
waiting for a daughter that will never materialize again at the barrier. That would be a pretty sad
scene.

The Grangers probably thought all was well in their daughter’s alternate world, and whether
Hermione would tell them what was really going on and what had actually happened to her, he never
knew. However, he had faith in Hermione that she could handle her affairs quite excellently, given
that she was the brightest witch of her age, and has shown bravery and wit when confronted with
extreme danger.

Yet there was another reason for Harry’s sudden sadness, and this time he knew what it was. This
meant Hermione could not be with him this Christmas at all…

“Hello, Harry,” said Mr. Granger jovially. “How was your last term? Great, I hope.”

Harry had then snapped back to reality. Hermione and her parents were in front of him now,
smiling at him.

“Oh, er, it was - adventurous, sir, thank you,” he said, managing to collect a few words and
give him a big smile back.

“Hermione talks a lot about you,” Mrs. Granger said as she hugged Hermione. “Don’t you, dear?”
Hermione blushed, and was too abashed to look at Harry.

Hermione then faced her parents. “I’m going to say goodbye to Harry and the Weasleys, Mum and
Dad,” she said excitedly. “I’ll be back.” She grabbed Harry’s hand and pulled him towards were
Molly Weasley was brushing off unseen dust from the coat of a melting Ron.

“Glad you could come with us to the Burrow, Harry,” said Mrs. Weasley happily, hugging Harry as
he stopped in front of her. She then gave a big smile and a hug to Hermione. “I see you have your
parents with you, Hermione. Have a happy Christmas, won’t you?”

“Thanks, Mrs. Weasley, I will,” she said. She waved everyone goodbye, and pulled Harry back
towards her parents. Halfway back, she stopped to talk to him.

“I’m really glad you’ll be enjoying your vacation, Harry. I’m sorry if I ever tried to prevent
you from having one before. And I really feel bad for ever doubting our relationship – I really
am.”

Harry breathed and smiled. “Hermione, please don’t apologize – you didn’t prevent me at all. You
just told me to think reasonably and…I thank you for that.” Harry had another wave of guilt coming
upon saying this, because Hermione never knew he was actually out of Hogwarts without Dumbledore’s
knowledge. His eyebrows furrowed again.

Hermione looked concerned seeing the look on his face, and looked up closer to Harry’s eyes.
“Harry, what’s wrong?” she said gently.

“Well,” he hesitated, and glanced edgily at Mr. and Mrs. Granger, who were waiting patiently for
Hermione. “I kind of thought all the time you’d be spending Christmas with me…I mean, *us* at
the Burrow. I’ve been looking forward to it all along…”

Hermione groaned and then looked anxiously at Harry, who looked slightly silly with his pouting
lips.

“Actually, I wanted to, Harry,” she said tentatively, looking for the right words to say to him.
“But you see,” – she sighed – “I haven’t been with my parents for three Christmases and I didn’t
want them to feel lonely this year…”

Harry realized this, and he was mad with himself for not thinking about it. He hoped he didn’t
look insensitive in front of Hermione. Regaining himself he said, “Oh, no, I didn’t mean to sound -
I-I know that, no question about it, you really need to be together” – he paused - “but I wish you
told me sooner, because all the while I believed we’ll be together, er, with Ron. But don’t worry,
I understand -”

Hermione’s cheeks went red, and she was ashamed at Harry for not telling him sooner. “Oh, Harry,
I’m so sorry,” she said like she was about to cry. “I guess I just forgot! I really did…” She gazed
at him, and the look of her eyes effectively magnified the regret she felt. Deep inside, she would
have loved to spend time with Harry, too.

This gave Harry even more reason to feel bad about causing Hermione untold stress. “No – no,
please, don’t worry about it…I didn’t mean to sound very, uhm, reproachful…”

Hermione chuckled, now amused at how discomfited Harry seemingly was in front of her (which she
thought was cute). Of course, Harry could have never guessed Hermione thought that way at the
moment and was puzzled as to why she became very giggly.

“Hermione,” called Mrs. Granger. They both snapped their heads towards Mr. and Mrs. Granger, who
were patiently beckoning Hermione that it was time to go. Harry and Hermione looked back at each
other again and they both laughed softly, feeling awkward – or better yet, mushy - again.

“I guess I’ll see you again before the new term,” said Harry quietly. “Promise you’ll be
okay?”

“Of course I’ll be okay, Harry, but thanks,” she assured, feeling happy Harry was showing much
concern to her. “It’s me who should ask you that – after all, it’s you who’s Voldemort is after,
isn’t it? Please do be careful. Wait…”

Her eyes went round for an instant after remembering something, and rummaged in her handbag.
“Harry, I want to you to have this, something that will at least help you imagine I’m always with
you this Christmas.” She handed him a very nice moving picture of her and Harry beamed. For Harry,
a simple thing like a picture was like the most valuable thing she could give him for life.

“You can annoy me in the picture if you feel like it,” Hermione laughed softly. She looked at
Harry’s eyes again very fondly. “I don’t mind.”

“Th-thank you, Hermione,” said Harry breathlessly. “but…but I don’t have anything with me to
give you.”

“That’s no problem,” she assured him. “You wait here…”

Hermione ran over to a bewildered Ron, grabbed him by the arm, and pulled him near where Harry
stood. Harry and Ron exchanged baffled looks but then Hermione called to her mother, “Mum, could
you…”

Mrs. Granger didn’t need any further telling; she took out an impressive looking Muggle camera,
and pointed it to Harry, Ron, and Hermione. Hermione threw both her arms around Harry and Ron’s
shoulders, pulled them closer warmly with their cheeks almost touching, and they smiled.

*Snap!*

“Enjoy your Christmas, Ron and Harry!” she said cheerfully, skipping backward to her parents and
waving her hand. “Love you lots! We’ll send Owls, okay?”

They waved back to her and her parents; Ron now put an arm around Harry’s shoulder and grinned
at him. Harry was still unwilling to let go of Hermione, but he finally accepted the fact that she
won’t be around with them this Christmas.

Ron steered Harry back happily to his family, who were now excitedly waiting for them. It was
always a great feeling for Harry to be in the company of a very caring family, and it now allowed
him to look forward to an enjoyable Christmas with no amount of worry about Voldemort, Death
Eaters, (or Dumbledore, oddly) could ever dampen what he felt at that moment.

Except, or course, Hermione’s absence.

-o0o-

The Burrow looked the same like Harry had last seen it since he made an unscheduled visit weeks
ago, but not in a bad way. It still looked beautiful to him as they approached the house from the
road as they rode the couple rented taxis from King’s Cross Station. However strongly Ron lamented
about the bad shape the Burrow was in, it was still home for him and for Harry, and the Weasley
family would’ve probably never be the same without it. Harry was very glad everything came back to
normal for Ron’s family after Mr. Weasley was disgraced in the Ministry of Magic because of Lucius
Malfoy’s reprehensible plot. If not, they would have lost the Burrow from further poverty (Arthur
had mulled selling off the property when he voluntarily resigned from his job).

Everybody got off the taxi cabs, and they walked inside the Burrow to the living room; Ginny
spun around with glee of being back home again at last and dove back on her favorite couch as her
father smiled down at her. Fred and George, however, acted businesslike, both speaking in
undertones as they walked up the crazy staircase probably to continue working on with their
inventions. Molly looked at the twins from behind with usual suspicion, and her eyes followed them
up until they disappeared from view.

Harry laughed quietly, and looked around the sitting room; it only seemed like yesterday when
Arthur gave him, Ginny, and Hermione a very hot sermon on hopping on to a very deadly adventure, at
the same couch Ginny was sitting on reading a cookbook.

“Nice to be back, isn’t it?” Ginny glowed. “I really thought I’d never enjoy living in the
Burrow again. Well, if you ask me, our last experience taught me how to really value the house I’ve
grown up in all my life in.”

Harry smiled at her in concurrence; he was happy for them. Though at the present he considered
Hogwarts and the Burrow as home, he wondered how it would feel like going back to a house he had
lived with his parents for many years. He had always wished for that life that was supposed to have
been if it weren’t for Voldemort’s crime. He may have had a happier life compared to this one, and
he thought he’d probably have the same friends, acquaintances, and probably enemies – that was
perfectly possible. But destiny itself had its own head - the life he had come to accept now and
the people he felt lucky to have known might not be the same ones anymore. So Harry chose to count
the blessings that came his way, and he was already fortunate to have been very close to the
Weasleys, Hermione, and probably the *coolest* people in the world to him.

“Dinner will come at seven, everyone!” announced Molly, and she turned to Harry. “Your bed is
ready, Harry. Why don’t go up and have a rest first and I’ll call you down for dinner.”

Harry smiled as he thanked Mrs. Weasely. He was amused of how sure she was that he’d be spending
Christmas with them when he himself almost got left behind at Hogwarts. Then Ron said, “C’mon,
Harry, let’s bring our stuff up our room.”

They heaved their luggage up to Ron’s room, which was at the uppermost floor. Panting from all
the pulling, they both slumped lazily on their comfy beds.

“Who else is coming home for Christmas, Ron?” Harry asked.

“Only Charlie, I guess.”

“Oh, where’s Percy?”

Ron grunted. He looked irked when he heard Percy’s name. “Probably licking Fudge’s boots to
shine as we speak,” Ron said bitterly. “He was at Hogwarts with Fudge a couple of nights ago,
didn’t you know?”

Harry couldn’t recall. He had not heard Fudge mention his name, at least. He shook his head.
“Was he?”

Ron grunted again. “He was Weaselby – he’s sometimes Williby, or Weatherbee. Fudge can’t
remember his proper name, at all, and Percy thinks Fudge can’t live without him. Harry, I’d rather
not talk about Percy, okay? He’s done something bad to the family lately and it’s a big source of
stress for us.”

“Okay,” said Harry slowly. “Sorry about bringing him up.”

“Don’t be silly, Harry,” Ron laughed, throwing him a pillow on the face. “Hey, can I have a go
with the Firebolt again, Harry?”

Harry readily agreed because he had not ridden it for a long time, and they walked back
downstairs with Ron carrying the broom. As they did, Harry passed by Percy’s room at the narrow
hall; the door was open and he couldn’t get hold of himself so he made a quick peek inside. It was
now virtually bare except for a desk, chair, a bookcase full of spell books, and a very neatly made
bed.

The last time he had been inside Percy’s room was days ago when he was nursed for his injured
ankle by Hermione and Mrs. Weasley. Harry speculated that Percy had gone off on his own. Ron seemed
to act bitter about his brother, and Harry thought the family may be, as well. So he made it a
personal point not to bring the subject up with the Weasleys anymore, fearing it might spark
something bad out of them.

Down at the backyard, Harry sat at the picnic table and he squinted as the low afternoon sun hit
his eyes while watching Ron zip by like a red blur with his Firebolt despite the chilly winter air.
Harry thought Ron was now getting rather good at it.

As cramped as the backyard as it was, he zipped between, rolled around, and avoided every object
on the way of his path (and not getting too high over the tall hedges at the same time to avoid
being seen by Muggles). Ron even playfully snatched Harry’s glasses off his face, and when Harry
had just barely noticed his eyesight had blurred because it was missing, Ron had turned back and
returned it properly on its right place with no sign of damage.

“Don’t hesitate to call our help if Ron gets too annoying, Harry,” said Fred as he approached
him with George, his head following Ron’s flight path. “We’re allowed to do magic outside of
Hogwarts now, as we’re seventh year.”

“We could curse our dear old brother of any spell we know with our heart’s delight,” said
George, inhaling the air very deeply.

“I heard that!” Harry heard Ron say at the same time a whooshing sound went past him.

The twins then sat with him at the picnic table. Fred carried something wrapped in a hanky,
which caught Harry’s attention. “What’s that you got there?” asked Harry.

“This is the pocket portkey we borrowed from you, Harry,” replied Fred. “We’ve discovered every
nuts and bolts to it and we’re now returning it to you.”

“Thanks to you,” added George, bowing low, “we could now produce our very own models.”

“Until we could make sense out of all the figures we gathered on it, at least,” Fred said
further. “What’s more, we found out you’d been had, my friend.”

“What do you mean I’ve been had?” said Harry, perplexed. Fred and George nudged each other and
laughed.

“You paid for this, didn’t you? You actually paid more than what you’re getting. We know every
pocket portkey must have at least an even number of uses on them. *They have to be even.* The
guy who sold it to you said you can only use it three times, didn’t he? So who in his right mind
would use the Portkey a third time and then worry how to get back where he came from the next?”

Harry nodded, now getting the twins’ logic.

“Well, we discovered a way to unlock its full potential – you can actually use this up to six
times. Well, four actually, now that you’ve used it twice…”

“Wow! That’s great, guys, thanks!” said Harry cheerfully. “Actually, it was a huge bargain. I
only paid four Galleons.”

“Only four Galleons,” repeated Fred faintly. “*Only* four Galleons he says. That’s a
fortune, Harry!”

“Compared with the Thirty Galleons the bartender charged us first?” Harry pointed out. “Four is
an unbelievable bargain. Our friend Willard helped us haggle with the price.”

Upon hearing that, he saw the twins look blankly ahead, their faces written with expressions of
heavy expectation, and their blue eyes looked like it was glinting with gold from Harry’s view.

“C’mon, we’ve got very *serious* work to do,” Fred told his twin. They thanked Harry again
for the favor, and then they ran off back to the Burrow.

As Harry examined his Portkey, he then remembered Willard, the stranger who helped him and Ron
from a very difficult situation. It would be nice to pop in at his little hotel again for a visit,
he thought. Except for the letters he sent to Willard, he hadn’t personally thanked him for his
generosity.

*He’d probably be surprised and glad to see us during this holiday season,* he thought.

Only that he remembered Hermione again and wished she was spending time with them at the Burrow
now, because he would have loved to bring her to Willard to be introduced – he did make a small
promise he’d meet her at one point. Feeling it was just a missed opportunity, unfortunately, he
nevertheless decided he’d use the restored Portkey to pay him a visit soon. He’d talk about it with
Ron, who might be willing to go with him, too, and perhaps they could set a date and time for
it.

Dinner had arrived later and with true Molly Weasley fashion. Harry wasn’t disappointed with the
food; it was roasted chicken, heavily buttered mashed potatoes, corn on the cob, and sumptuous
lasagna for tonight. Everything tasted delicious that Harry didn’t know what food to concentrate
on. Molly promised of more good things to come for the next few days, and Harry wondered how he’d
look like after three weeks were up. Feeling heavier than he was half an hour ago, he felt sleepy,
and started to walk up the stairs with Ron to clean themselves up for the night.

“Don’t forget to brush your teeth, Ronald!” Molly shrieked from the first floor amid the sound
of laughter from Fred, George, and Ginny. Ron grumbled all the way up the top of the stairs.

Harry slumped on his bed chest down while Ron did brush his teeth at the bathroom. He then
carefully looked around behind him. Making sure Ron was nowhere in sight, and reached for
Hermione’s picture hidden under the mattress. He didn’t understand why all of a sudden he missed
looking at her face and yearned for her company even more.

He sighed as Hermione in the moving picture wiggled her nose at him.

“You look real cute, don’t you?” he whispered, and Hermione moved sheepishly sideways, flattered
at what he said.

Then the familiar guilt that came with each thought of her coursed through his chest again. She
was just his best friend, and he felt he didn’t have the right to desire her. He then thought it
would probably prove detrimental to the little trio he had formed with her and Ron if he ever had a
romantic relationship with Hermione. Harry closed his eyes again tightly and laughed softly.

*Romantic relationship*?

Now, where did that come from? Why did he think of that now, like it would come in his future?
This was just like back at the lake in Hogwarts, and he almost told her that he dreaded not seeing
her eyes anymore if she truly died. Well, that was slightly true of course. Her eyes did look
pretty when he looked at the picture again. The real thing would be even much prettier. Harry then
sighed upon remembering the feeling he got when Hermione hugged him when she cried along the
corridors at Hogwarts…it was extremely wonderful. Then the same guilt came back again to him pretty
quickly.

He heard the door to the bathroom open, and he quickly hid the picture back under his mattress.
This wasn’t the right time Ron would find out about this yet.

“You allright, there, Harry?” said Ron, smiling. “Anyway, thanks for the ride with the Firebolt
– I didn’t know I could do things with it I can’t imagine doing with Fred’s broom.”

“You’re welcome, Ron,” said Harry. He turned upright on his bed, glad that Ron came up with some
ideas to talk about. He then remembered to discuss his idea with Ron about visiting Willard, which
he found very exciting.

“How about tomorrow, Harry, right after lunch? Mum and Dad won’t be home then. We could sneak
off and get back before dinner.”

“Yeah, that sounds real great,” Harry said, now looking forward to their little excursion. “I
think I’m gonna have to go to sleep now. G’night!” With a long yawn, Harry turned himself back
chest down, leaving Ron to open his favorite book about the Chudley Cannons.

Harry suddenly lost his sleepiness, because he now remembered to worry about what an incensed
Dumbledore might say to him. It looked like he hadn’t come back at Hogwarts up to now because it
seemed he had not known he was missing yet. Otherwise, he probably had gotten a Howler demanding
him to explain why he’s in the Burrow when he was supposed to be at Hogwarts this afternoon
already. Even so, Harry expected Dumbledore will still know soon enough. He thought worrying now
wasn’t doing any good; he was already in hot water anyway, so he shook his mind and looked for
anything else to think about – maybe something happy.

Then Hermione’s face came vividly in. Now that was something *happy*. He sighed. He
couldn’t help but think of her, too, and he couldn’t now deny he had a budding infatuation with his
best friend. If embarking on a romantic affair with her might be dangerous for this trio, then
perhaps dreaming – just dreaming about her - won’t hurt. He closed his eyes and then he gradually
drifted off to sleep.

Only that the dream he wanted didn’t come as he hoped for.

-o0o-

*Harry was standing on a dark-colored stone floor, in a room surrounded with four shadowy
walls as far as the eye could see. He walked a few feet, hoping to get to at least one of them. The
floor did roll below him, but the walls did not seem to come nearer at all. Then he ran. It didn’t
help a bit – he was moving in slow motion. Maybe there was a way out – the feeling was already
drowning him – like he felt he could go on forever.*

*He then heard voices - and laughter from afar. Harry steered himself to the direction of the
sounds hoping to find anybody there who might lead him the way out. As he gained ground, the voices
became clearer – their words more pronounced. He had heard that voice before several times. It was
Voldemort, and his voice became louder, the words uttered appeared repetitious and he could now
understand what he was saying.*

*“…Kill the Mudbood…Kill the Mudblood…”*

*His heart sank. He thought of the obvious.*

*He had to do something to stop it. He ran further, until he chanced upon an old wardrobe
cabinet the materialized out of thin air and standing in front of him.*

*“Kill the Mudblood…”*

*Harry had to open the wardrobe to see who was inside it - he felt like he knew who was in
there. He didn’t want to, but he had to know.*

*“Open it, Harry!” said Voldemort, laughing mirthlessly.*

*“No, it couldn’t be…please don’t let it be her…”*

*He reached for the knob and turned it slowly. He braced himself of what was to come, dreading
it. “Please let it be just a boggart,” he prayed. Then what he saw made him yell.*

*Professor Russelpunk was dead, very pale and hanging on a gallow apparently of his own making
inside the cabinet. His eyes and mouth hang open as if what he saw last was the most fearsome thing
he had ever seen.*

*“The Mudblood is dead!” and he heard more mirthless laughter echoing throughout…*

“Harry, Harry, wake up!” said Ron sleepily. “You’re having another of one of your nightmares
again.”

Harry woke up and popped upright from his bed. His scar hurt again, though it wasn’t painful
enough and he didn’t press it with a hand. “I-I saw Russelpunk dead, Ron,” he panted.

Ron, however, didn’t look shocked. Instead he said thoughtlessly, “Good, tell me how tomorrow
morning.” He then got back on his bed and instantly snored.

Harry looked at Ron exasperatedly, laid his head back on his pillow, and pressed his palms
against his face. He had been dreaming things that turned real forever, though not all. It could
have just been a product of his imagination because, well, he thought he’d never care about what
happened to Russelpunk – he was only his teacher since the last term.

Still, Harry allowed himself to feel relieved for a moment. He actually thought it was Hermione
in the dresser. He thought Voldemort had found out about his feelings with her and he had been
planning to take her away from him forever. Fortunately, this it wasn’t the case.

However, seeing Russelpunk dead in a probable premonition he thought that by doing nothing for
him he might fully regret it later on because it was still a human life that may be in mortal
danger. And every life was precious unlike Voldemort believed.

What was it with these bloody dreams? What can he do? He knew he can’t just write a note to
Russelpunk and simply say, “*Good morning sir. Oh, by the way, don’t kill yourself next with a
rope tied around your neck*!”

With both of them so far away from each other, Harry could only hope Russelpunk was all right
and that it was not a vision of something that’s already happened at the present. He was already
too anxious to know already this time of night that he found it very difficult to fall back to
sleep.

-o0o-

Harry did fall asleep.

The first thing he did in the morning after he woke up was to take out a piece of parchment from
his chest and began writing anyway. He had to know how Russelpunk was. He paused for a moment, and
decided not to make his letter direct. He thought of a way, now that he was thinking more clearly
than in the middle of the night.

*Dear Professor Russelpunk,*

*Hello, I hope you’re fine. I thought I’d list some possible spells that you would consider
including in our lessons after the New Year. I’ll list it down in the next parchment before I’d
forget them again. If you get this list, please send back a reply with Hedwig, my snowy
owl.*

*Harry Potter*

After looking up at least ten good spells he’d personally want to learn from a spell book he
found in Percy’s room, he prodded Hedwig awake to tell her who to deliver the letter to.

“Make sure he writes back, and if he’s dead, return the letter to me quickly,” he instructed.
“Off you go, now.” Hedwig obliged and flew off with the envelope.

Harry didn’t take off his sight of Hedwig until she disappeared over the horizon. He didn’t know
where Russelpunk lived, or if he had stayed at Hogwarts for Christmas. Since he was a Muggle, he’d
probably had to want spending his holidays in the Muggle world.

Harry spent most of his morning hours waiting for Hedwig to come back, but it was now after
lunch and there was still no sign of her. Resigned to that fact that he’d get a reply from the
Professor (hopefully) after he came back from visiting Willard, he looked for Ron. Ron was ready to
go – he made sure that his parents were already away (Mr. & Mrs. Weasley went off to visit some
friends at London).

Only Ginny was at home besides Harry and Ron, and she was also in to the plan. If ever Mr.&
Mrs. Weasley wondered where they been off to, she’d just simply say, “Ron’s secret place”.

Harry and Ron put on their robes over their thick clothes; Harry then took out his Pocket
Portkey – it was a replica of a zippo lighter – and concentrated hard of the very spot he wanted to
pop out on. He then turned the knob slowly thrice. After six seconds they felt the usual tug of the
Portkey, flew along the length of the swirling grey-colored twister within, and seconds later they
landed softly on a hearth rug in the middle of the hotel’s small lobby.

“I think we’re here,” said Ron, recognizing the furniture and decorations of Willard’s small,
but cozy hotel. However, the lobby was eerily empty – dark and quiet. The few round dining tables
had not been cleaned up (used bottles were still on them) and the couches and chairs were
haphazardly arranged.

Ron looked at Harry with a frown on his face and said, “Harry, why the lobby? There could have
been Muggles around…”

“Sorry,” said Harry, shrugging. “This is the only part of the hotel I remember pretty well.” He
looked around. “D’you think he’s home?”

“I suppose,” replied Ron, walking a little deeper in the hotel slowly. “He didn’t have any
customers around when we came here to begin with…”

Harry looked for the way towards the kitchen and called, “Hello? Hello, anybody home?” No
answer.

They felt increasing disappointed after they kept calling for anyone without any response.

“Seems no one’s home…” said Ron, but he paused when he heard brisk footsteps coming from the
kitchen. “Oh, I think that’s him,” he smiled to Harry. The door opened slowly. Expecting to see
Willard emerging from the door, they grinned at that direction.

But what Harry saw made him lose his grin abruptly.

It wasn’t Willard – it was someone else - a man he didn’t recognize. He was pointing a wand at
them, moving forward, looking determined to kill!

“RON! It’s an attack!”

Ron didn’t need telling twice. They both dove under the tables at the same time as a violent
spell zipped past over their heads (almost changing where they parted their hair) and hitting an
object somewhere behind them that fell and broke on the floor with a loud crash.

Believing this wasn’t a warm welcome at all, Harry drew his wand out of his robe though he
wasn’t sure if it was safe to perform magic without being expelled and if this little situation
fell under the conditions of being under mortal danger. One thing was for sure, he’d use if he was
forced to.

Under the tables, Harry and Ron saw the feet of the wizard move closer to where they hid, and
they expected next he was about to destroy the table top above to expose them. “Harry, we’re
sitting ducks here...” Ron said urgently but as quietly as he could.

Harry looked in his eyes, nodded once, and glanced up the underside of the table. Ron nodded
back after he got the message. With tightened faces, they got ready.

When the wizard moved in close enough and started muttering a new spell, they grabbed and lifted
the table by its legs, lunging towards him using the table for protection, and rammed him like a
speedy bulldozer. This knocked the wizard painfully backward off his feet, and they all fell to the
floor in heap. While the wizard was pinned on the floor by the table with Harry and Ron adding more
weight to it, Harry heard the soft clatter of a wand and saw it roll away!

Taking the opportunity to disarm the wizard, Harry sprang up after it. However, the wizard had
seen him and grabbed his ankle, making Harry fall down on the floor! The wand was almost within his
reach, but he could only grasp thin air as the wizard fought to prevent him from taking the wand,
yelling from all the effort.

Ron came to Harry’s rescue and smashed a small bottle on the wizard’s wrist of the hand that
held on to Harry, making him howl in pain and release his grip. Finally free, Harry crawled
hurriedly a little further, scooped the loose wand off the floor, pointed it back to the wizard,
and yelled at Ron to move back to a safer spot.

“Please…please don’t hurt us!” said the wizard painfully, his voice shaking. He slowly slid off
the table on top of his chest. “We’ve done nothing wrong with you, please!”

“Don’t you dare make any sudden moves or I’ll jinx you,” shouted Harry, slightly panting. “Who
are you? Where’s Willard?”

“P-please leave us alone!” At last Harry saw the face of the wizard as the table finally slipped
off towards the floor. There he was, shaking, lying on his back on the floor, and looked back and
forth to Harry and Ron who were flanking him on both sides. He looked unkempt like he had been in a
mess for several days.

“Stay on the floor!” Ron warned when the wizard tried to lift his body to sit up, and he obeyed.
He still looked scared and laid back flat on his back with the force of Ron’s shoving foot.

“Who are you stranger?!?” asked Harry again.

“I-I’m Steve, S-Steve Wraskon,” he said, shaking. “You know who I am. Y-you’re D-Death Eaters,
aren’t yeh?”

“Of course not! Do we look like Death Eaters to you?” said Ron, looking extremely insulted.

Steve suddenly looked perplexed. “T-then you didn’t come back here to get her?”

“Get who?” asked Harry, still pointing Steve’s wand at him. “We came here to pay Willard a visit
- and you came out to attack us!” Harry wiped his arm once over his sweaty forehead, and Steve’s
eyes went round when he saw his scar.

“Good Lord! Y-you must be *Harry Potter*!” Steve said, pointing at the scar and sounding
slightly relieved. “Please, I’m not your enemy, Mr. Potter, I-I was just afraid you were Death
Eaters coming back and I tried to defend her.” Harry, however, didn’t trust Steve yet and kept on
pointing the wand at him.

“Who the bloody hell are you talking about?” yelled Ron. “Who’s her?”

“My daughter. Stephanie.”

“*Stephanie*?!?” repeated Harry and looked at Ron, who also recognized the girl’s name as
Willard’s favorite niece. “Then you must be…”

“Willard’s younger brother…” Steve finished Harry’s sentence for him.

“So, then, where’s Willard?” asked Harry, lowering the wand slowly.

“Uncle Willard’s gone,” said a sad girl’s voice softly from the door.

Harry snapped his head towards her direction. He saw young Stephanie for the first time. She was
clinging on the edge of the doorway tightly, and she looked like she hadn’t fixed herself up for
days like her father.

“The Death Eaters have him.”

-o0o-

**Next chapter: “Death Eaters Attack”**



7. Curious Disappearances
-------------------------

DISCLAIMER: Please see Prologue Page.

**A/N: Hello I’m back! Quite a hectic two weeks for me. Thanks for checking out this story!
Anyway, here is the next chapter of the story. It’s 99% edited. Please kindly leave reviews. :-)
Thanks!!!**

*** **Chapter 6:** “Curious Disappearances” ***

Harry stared at the girl who had just come out from behind the door to the kitchen. She was
about twelve or thirteen; had long straight black hair, light skinned, very slender, and a head
shorter than him. She looked scared, and didn’t look as if she fully trusted Harry yet (despite the
fact she had said where her Uncle Willard was).

Steve took a look at Stephanie quickly as he sat still on the floor. “Dear child - what did I
say to you about not getting out without my signal?” he said severely.

“It’s okay, we won’t hurt you two anymore…” said Harry to Steve. Harry looked slowly at
Stephanie and then said in a manner as if a sudden change of volume might scare her, “You must be
Stephanie – Willard told me a lot about you. I’m Harry Potter. And this is my best friend, Ron
Weasley.” Ron smiled curtly, made a quick wave at her, and withdrew his hands to his back.

“Yes, I’ve been wanting to meet in person you ever since,” she replied, now with a lighter
voice, slowly going out into the lobby. “But not looking like this…”

She looked down at herself and glanced back to Harry and Ron, looking embarrassed. Her clothes
were a little dirty, suggesting that she had been sitting on a lot of dust for some time.

“No, it’s fine,” said Harry, “I mean, really - it doesn’t matter.” He looked at Steve who was
still sitting down on the floor, and offered his hand to help him up. Steve smiled and took it
gratefully, and just as soon he was upright, he and Harry shook hands. Harry had then noticed Steve
was a large man, much taller than lying flat on the floor. He surely looked able to have put him
and Ron out cold with just his bare hands without much difficulty.

“I’m glad to meet you, Harry Potter,” he said with another sigh of relief in his voice. “Just so
we’re properly introduced, I’m Steve Wraskon, and this is my daughter Stephanie.”

Harry also introduced Ron to him and asked, “Since when was Willard been captured by Death
Eaters?”

“Less than a week ago,” replied Steve sadly. “They came again for him, and this time they took
him away.”

“You said ‘again’,” said Ron, baffled. “Then they were here before for him?”

“That’s what he told me while he was here - please, sit down,” Steve replied, motioning Harry
and Ron to sit around a small round table with four stools similar to the one they wrecked.
Stephanie went back to the kitchen, apparently to get something.

“Stephanie and I came here days before the Death Eaters did,” said Steve as he walked to the
front windows and peeked outside. “Will told me he met you, Harry, and he had brought you to the
nearby witches’ pub to help you buy something important for a bargain. He was really happy about
it. But when you left, some Death Eaters were already waiting for him to return here and tortured
him for information about your whereabouts.”

Harry and Ron ran a hand on their hair at the same time, feeling guilty of creating even more
trouble for Will, who was a very unselfish man. “Did he get hurt?”

Steve saw their faces and said, “Don’t feel bad for him – sure, he was hurt for a while but he
asked us to come for him and Stephanie here is quite good in magical medicine despite her young age
- she mended every broken bone and aching muscle Will had – but he didn’t blame you one bit, I
know.” Steve moved towards the table Harry and Ron sat beside at, pulled out a chair for his own,
and sat down. Upon hearing about Willard’s broken bones, Harry and Ron moaned in regret.

Stephanie came back from the kitchen with two bottles of Butterbeer on a tray, and placed them
in front of Harry and Ron at the round table.

“Stephanie – oh, please, you don’t have to…” said Harry clumsily.

Stephanie only smiled at him and sat down beside her father to listen in to their conversation.
Harry had thought that it was probably in their family’s nature to be very hospitable to their
visitors, and it even made him much guilty knowing that he had hurt Steve first and then got served
with drinks. Still, Harry knew they only got violent after Steve mistook them for Death Eaters and
almost killed them on the spot so they were even, he thought. Nevertheless, he thanked Stephanie
for the Butterbeer, which tasted nice when chilled.

“And you said they came back for him – for what?” said Ron, gulping down butterbeer down his
throat and eager for answers.

“We don’t know,” said Steve, “but we just have hunches. They just came in one night while we
were serving guests, stunned him, ransacked the cellar, and took him away – scared the hell out of
the customers. Before they were all gone, though, they threatened me and Stephanie not to go
reporting the incident to the Aurors, or they will kill my brother. They also told us not to step
out of this place, or they will find us in no time and kill us. *And* they said they will tell
Will when he woke up to cooperate with them, or else they kill Stephanie.” Steve sighed, and
Stephanie shuddered. “Worst, they even sealed this hotel from both Muggle and wizard sight. We
could shout and bang chairs for years and nobody would ever hear or notice us. Not even owls could
find us.”

“That’s terrible!” said Harry, horror-struck. “They didn’t leave you with any choice at all!
What if you starved and needed to find food outside?”

“Yeah, we were coming to that, almost. Seems they left us for dead.”

“From the looks of it, they look to be trying to force Willard to do something for them, too –
what could it be?”

“I’ve been suspecting that it has to do about something he does as a hobby,” said Steve
thoughtfully. “The place in the cellar that the Death Eaters made a mess out of was Will’s small
laboratory – didn’t he show it to you? No? Well, he loves to mix all kinds of chemicals – potions
if it’s for wizard. He’s discovered a few new useful things for a couple of years, been recognized
by the Bureau of Magical Potions for his work on cooking up the best treatment for magical herb
maladies. He then invested all the money he earned out of it, which was not at all big, but just
enough to start his hotel business.”

Harry and Ron looked at each other in surprise, but they understood they had just met Willard
for a night and he may have had a lot of achievements that they didn’t know of. “But he didn’t
finish school, did he?” said Ron brazenly.

Steve didn’t find that at all annoying. He smiled and answered, “Yes, that’s true, but some
achievers didn’t get to finish school, like Miranda Hingkeltub, who discovered the uses of the
Hingkeltub Fallow Sap, which was named after her. But don’t get that to your heads, kids, because
you can do even much better if you’ve finished school!” He looked at Harry, Ron and Stephanie.

“So what’s the connection between the treatment for maladies with his kidnapping? It doesn’t
make sense.”

“Maybe You-Know-Who could be hurt badly!” theorized Ron hopefully. “They need a miracle drug to
heal him!”

“Possibly. Now that would be a very good thought…”

“And it could be for something else,” added Steve, shrugging. “We just don’t know. But they have
him for some reason…”

“Do you have any idea where they might have brought him?” asked Harry.

Steve just shook his head, but he soon remembered something. “I’ve been hearing a lot of talk
about a terrible fortress – You-Know-What. It’s quite possible he’s been brought there…I don’t
know. He could be anywhere!”

“Hey, how many people know about Xanthius now?” said Harry, interested to know what people think
about the fortress. Steve, Stephanie, and Ron jumped upon hearing the name.

“Just about everybody,” said Stephanie, wiping the tabletop of spilled Butterbeer with a rag.
“Everyone gets freaked out when they talk about it. I mean, it’s just terrible – rumors of more
disappearances, people telling stories how they were taken away and had seen You-Know-What…”

“Which is rubbish, I know,” added Steve. “Their claims, I mean. You know how people talk. I
think if you’d see it once, you’re good as dead…”

He stopped talking when he heard Stephanie let out a sob. “Oh, honey, I’m sorry, but we’re not
even sure Uncle Willard’s in You-Know-What yet…” He embraced his now crying daughter to comfort
her.

Harry sighed and looked at them sadly. It was indeed quite heartbreaking to know Willard could
now be in mortal danger. He was such a good man and Harry wished he could have known more of him.
He didn’t deserve such a fate at all. He wanted to tell them that he had indeed been to Xanthius
and had actually escaped from Voldemort to give them hope Willard could also pull that off, but
Harry was only because he got lucky and had help with his friends. Willard might be alone in
Xanthius right now with no help to turn to - if he was indeed brought there. Yet, he could be
thousands of other places like Steve said.

“About his hobby – can we see his lab? If it’s all right…” asked Ron.

“Oh, that’s perfectly okay,” assured Steve. He stood up from his chair (Stephanie still clung to
him) and beckoned Harry and Ron to go follow him. “I’ll lead you two downstairs to it.”

They entered the kitchen. It smelled of stale food – Harry and Ron covered their noses as they
passed by the pantry, watching and following Steve and Stephanie. Upon reaching a dark area in the
kitchen, Steve dropped to one knee and pried a loose concrete slab off the floor, which revealed a
wooden trapdoor covering a stairway leading down. One by one they filed in, until they were all
inside a fairly wide, well-lit, and well maintained laboratory filled with different herbs,
chemicals, beakers – the works. They saw a living monkey in a cage screeching at the unexpected
visitors, and some white mice running a exercise wheel inside their own. The floor was wet and
slippery with mixed liquid, and sharp broken glass were scattered everywhere. “What a mess!” Ron
observed. “They really worked his lab out…”

“He spent a lot of his free time here discovering useful things,” said Stephanie, who had now
calmed a bit already. “He’s really my idol…”

Harry smiled at her, and she smiled back. Harry knew how happy Willard was each time he talked
about his niece, and he had now appreciated how very close they were.

Steve moved to the storage cabinet containing different kinds of mixed potions. “Nothing looks
missing around – except in here.” He opened it, and Harry saw the shelf labeled “Metavira Potion –
potent mix” was bare.

“What’s the Metavira Potion do?” asked Harry interestedly. Steve just shrugged because he didn’t
have a clue what it was made for.

“He didn’t talk much about his work, except that he *liked* to work. But I bet that’s what
they wanted along with him and his journal. I couldn’t find the journal everywhere – it’s quite
large and too colorful to miss.”

“Whatever the potion was,” thought Harry, “I think it does something they think it’s useful for
their purpose. We must find out what it does, and maybe it could help us understand why they took
Willard.”

“Thought so, too,” Steve smiled slightly. “Only that we had no way of knowing while we were
stuck here.”

“We’ve been cooped up in the hotel for days,” added Stephanie. “We didn’t know who to call, who
to turn to. And we didn’t dare step out the door of this hotel because we were scared they might
know about it and seek us out.”

Steve nodded. “And, thank God, you were the first to come here, not Death Eaters…I bet her
classmates are wondering what happened to her.”

“You need help,” declared Harry. “I want to help you – but I don’t know how to start…”

Steve pondered. “Well, we’re already happy that somebody as friendly like you had found us here
- at least whatever bad happened to us won’t be a mystery…and we do wish we could get out of here,
but, you know…”

Ron moved forward. “Maybe we could help evacuate you, if you want. Dad’s from the Ministry. He
might be able to do something to help you. I can’t make any promises, but he has friends who are
Aurors. The Burrow’s big enough for all of us, and then some.”

“Thanks, Ron, good idea, it’s the best chance we’ve got,” Harry said. He then turned back to
Steve. “We’re gonna have to spirit you both out of here to the Burrow – that’s Ron’s house. Mr.
Weasley knows who to trust in the Ministry, does he, Ron?” Ron nodded.

Steve and Stephanie was glad at first from hearing that, but then glanced at each other
apprehensively. Harry read through their faces what they may have been hesitant of - that is,
possible retribution from the Death Eaters.

“But the Death Eaters…” said Stephanie, looking alarmed as Harry had expected. “They might find
out we’ve gone and they’ll go looking for us. And if they knew we went talking, they’ll kill Uncle
Willard!”

Harry and Ron looked at each other uncertainly after they were reminded of this. They were
thinking very recklessly of their next move without even considering the risks. Still, it won’t
make things better if the two stayed holed up in this hotel, and they might be attacked anytime and
there was no way of others to know what had happened to them. Whichever way they turned, they
needed to get out, though they had to tread carefully.

“Then we’ll try to do this in secret,” said Ron shortly, his eyes rolling while he was thinking.
“Need to know basis – I know Dad had done some covert action before. I could go back to the Burrow
and tell Dad first – talk to him about this. He might have better solutions how to hide your
escape. Then whatever happens, we’ll come back here either with help or maybe with just a few
ideas…” ”

However, Steve and Stephanie still looked worried. They weren’t sure if they’d also take the
risk, though they were indeed thankful Harry and Ron were going out of their way to solve their
problems.

“Yeah, I think that’s a better way,” Harry agreed. “That way we won’t get them into trouble
early, and we could have some new things to think it over with. I still have about three uses left
on my portkey. Can you work it yourself, Ron? We just can’t leave them here by themselves.”

Ron thought for a moment and nodded his head when he understood why Harry had to stay behind for
the meantime and that he had to go back to the Burrow temporarily by himself. Leaving with him
together for help might cause Steve and Stephanie to doubt them ever coming back again or get
attacked while they were away.

“Yeah, Harry, I can,” said Ron firmly.

Harry then looked at Steve, whose face now became firm. “Do you trust us, Steve? We want to know
if you feel like leaving this place.”

Steve nodded. “Yes we do, don’t we Steph? We thank you for all your effort and trouble. They’ll
come for us anyway – Death Eaters can’t be trusted, and I hope word won’t go out we’ll be reporting
this to the Aurors or else it’s Willard’s life that might get lost.”

Ron took the Portkey from Harry and said, “Going back here might take some time – I have to look
for my Dad, but I’ll be back tonight whether he agrees or not.”

Harry nodded and reminded Ron what to do with Portkey. It was Harry who was always using the
object, but just a little concentration was what he really needed to make it work. “We’ll stay
beyond the kitchen,” he said.

“I’ll call your name first to let you know it’s me, Harry.” Ron vanished shortly, while Harry,
Steve, and Stephanie were all left in the hotel.

“Come, Harry,” Steve said shortly. “Let’s wait in the lab. It’s safer there.”

-o0o-

It’s been four hours and Ron hadn’t come back yet, though they’ve been expecting this. He might
still be waiting for his Dad to come home to the Burrow from London, and explaining things to him
also would take some time. If Ron was successful in convincing his dad to help, they would still
have to wait while Mr. Weasley would call for help from his colleagues. Then they will still have
to plan their moves, which would take even more time – that is, if Ron did it right. But Harry had
faith with his best friend, yet he couldn’t help to think of the possibilities that things might
not happen as they hoped. “Brace for the worst and hope for the best” was his motto of the day.

To kill the time off he spent waiting for Ron, Harry helped Steve and Stephanie clean up
Willard’s kitchen and lab from the mess and debris. While doing so they talked about many things
and he had learned more about father and daughter.

Harry learned Steve was a bank clerk on leave from Ireland – he had asked to use his vacation
privileges to assist his brother with his hotel while he was recovering from his injuries.
Stephanie, meanwhile, was actually a third-year student at Westwall School of Magic, the
counterpart of Hogwarts in Ireland. The Headmistress of Westwall had granted her two weeks off her
formal schooling to help heal Willard, which was actually applicable to her training as future
Healer. Stephanie was into her second week away from her school. They hadn’t expected to be
stranded in the hotel at all, and luckily Harry had thought of paying Willard a visit or else no
one might have known about their situation here.

“I really want to thank you, Harry, for all the help you’re extending to us,” said Steve
sincerely for the millionth time. “I’m at a loss of how we could repay you…”

Harry smiled and said, “You’re welcome. But you don’t have to, Steve. Willard was very kind to
us and this is the least we could do. Not that we’re just doing this to repay him, but I just can’t
stand leaving you and Stephanie alone this way. The Death Eaters have been very mean with you - you
all don’t deserve this. You really need to get out here safely and quietly.”

“Uncle Willard always told me you were such a nice person, Harry,” said Stephanie with
gratefulness emanating from her eyes. “He wasn’t wrong…you’re more than that – like the stories
I’ve heard at school – you’re a real hero, you are.” She then beamed at him.

“Thanks,” said Harry. He felt really flattered at what Stephanie said. “But we’re still not out
of the woods yet, as Ron’s not back…”

Harry checked his watch. It was past five already. What could be taking Ron so long? For a
fleeting moment, Harry thought of something horrible that might have happened to Ron. It was
possible he had gotten lost and had to use the portkey the fifth and sixth time – or maybe Death
Eaters have intercepted him and then took him away.

*Here I go again, being the pessimist*, Harry angrily told himself. Minutes earlier he was
quite the opposite of it.

Soon Harry heard a faint pop from upstairs, and another, like the sound made by anyone
apparating in. The three stopped cleaning the lab and looked up the ceiling.

“Could that be Ron with help now?” said Stephanie expectantly.

Harry, however, held out a hand to signal her to keep quiet. If it was really the sound of an
apparation, then it could not have been Ron. He didn’t know how to yet, along with him and
Hermione. He had expected Ron to come back with the use of the portkey (which didn’t make any sound
at all).

It was possible that they could be Aurors already sent in for them, but then again they could be
Death Eaters or somebody entirely different - somebody who could be dangerous. Harry had to be
careful meeting their “visitors”, and he got ready for anything.

Harry glanced at Steve and mouthed the words “wands out”. Steve nodded and took out his wand,
his face going back to what Harry had seen on him when he had gone out to attack him. “Stephanie,
stay in the lab…”

But Stephanie had her wand out, too.

“There could be more of them than you two,” said Stephanie severely. “We need all the hands on
deck!”

This time Steve didn’t protest and Harry led the way to peek out of the trap door. He had
emerged with just a more few steps the ground floor, and looked around. There were shadows moving
across the doorway to the lobby. They looked big. Ron could have already called out Harry’s name,
but up to now, whoever was up there hadn’t talked. Harry then saw the shadows getting nearer the
kitchen door, and it opened slowly, making a creaking sound.

“Harry Potter,” said the man’s rough voice, “are you in here?”

It wasn’t Ron’s voice for sure. It was somebody else’s. It was very hoarse, and he had heard it
somewhere before. It was a very familiar voice – but he couldn’t recall at once.

“Slowly, it might be an ambush,” said the wizard again.

“Ambush?” said another voice – female this time. She sounded young. “Harry Potter can’t use
magic here – he’d be expelled at school!”

“Shhhh- quiet! Don’t count on it…just be prepared.”

Harry was sure whoever they were knew he was hiding here. *Yeah, you wait and see, whoever you
are…*

He sank back to the cellar, and planned his next move with Steve, but he froze when he heard the
man say “I see him down at the cellar…with two others.” Harry gulped – how could he have seen them
all when they still outside the kitchen?

“Harry, what is it?” hissed Steve, reading the look on Harry’s face.

“Whoever’s up there, they know we’re down here!” he exclaimed as softly as he could. “And where
we’re hiding!”

“But how’s that possible?” asked Stephanie, her eyes widening. They snapped their heads up the
cellar’s ceiling again when they heard very heavy and very loud footsteps coming from up above.

“Come out, come out, Potter! We’re here for you,” called the wizard above hoarsely. He now
sounded very dangerous. Harry, Steve, and Stephanie reared back towards the farthest wall facing
cellar stairs and got their wands at the ready. Harry thought of a good curse to cast, expulsion
from school be damned - he was being threatened!

“He’s coming!” whimpered Stephanie.

Then Harry saw the feet of the wizard from above limp down the stairs in front of him. Before
Harry had a good line of sight to get a good shot, his wand had flown off mysteriously from his
hand, leaving him unarmed.

“*Flipendo* *Tria*!” bellowed Steve, but missed the wizard by an inch, hitting the
wooden staircase and collapsing it. The wizard fell down with it a couple feet to the floor, but
kept on standing straight as if nothing had shaken where he stood.

“*Expelliarmus*!” the wizard barked, and Steve was thrown off painfully back to the wall,
and slid down to the floor. Stephanie screamed. The wizard had the ugliest face she had ever seen
in her life!

“What’re you staring at, girl?” he growled menacingly. “Do I look that ugly to you?”

Stephanie instantly went silent.

Even if Harry had been devoid of a wand, he thought he could still get physical. “You’re not the
real Mad-Eye-Moody!” he growled.

Harry sprinted towards him, right arm extended backward, hand clenched into a fist, and took
very careful aim at the spinning eye. Getting to within a few feet from his target, Harry threw the
punch but…

*Poof! Pop!*

The Moody look-alike dissaparated and apparated again, sending Harry through and flying off on
top of the long table at the middle of lab, scattering stuff all over the floor! Harry looked back
painfully at “Moody” who remained standing where he had last seen him, tutting annoyingly.

“You call that a move, Potter? *Pathetic*!” he commented while he shook his head. Harry
roared in anger having been played at by this - impostor. Then he heard running footsteps again
upstairs. Before Harry could make another move, “Moody’s” female companion had run into the lab,
landing in between the two, heavily panting.

“Hold your horses!” she shouted urgently, holding out both hands. “Before you hurt yourself,
Harry, you need to calm down!”

“Who’re you to tell me to calm down?!?” Harry yelled at the young woman who had weird purple
hair.

“I’m Nymphadora Tonks!” she replied, breathing heavily. “Tonks, for short – Tonks. We’ve been
sent in by Dumbledore to get you out of here.”

“Dumbledore?” said Harry suspiciously. “How did he know I was here?”

“Weasley’s son, he came asking for help…didn’t he, Harry?”

“So where’s Ron?” At the same moment Harry heard more popping noise from upstairs, and Ron’s
voice calling out his name.

“Ron, down here!”

Tonks looked at Moody scathingly and said, “See, I told you we should just call Harry’s name
instead of using stealth – you freaked him out! You wouldn’t listen!”

Moody looked dismissive, threw his face away from Tonks, and then stared down at Steve on the
floor, who was staring back up to him with wide eyes.

“They could’ve been the enemy – doesn’t hurt to make sure.”

Tonks rolled her eyes and threw here hands in the air. Moody then added, “I’ve lived longer than
any other Auror that way!”

Ron had gone down inside the lab, followed by Arthur Weasley, and he made a face upon seeing the
mess all around him. He saw Harry on top of the long table and moved hurriedly toward him.

“You all right, mate?” said Ron. “Sorry about this - I told them I should’ve have gone first to
keep things calm but Moody wouldn’t have none of it. Said there could be an ambush waiting back at
the hotel and he disapparated along with Tonks!”

Harry glanced at Mad-Eye-Moody uncertainly. Because of his bad experience after the Triwizard
Tournament last year, anybody who’d look like Moody could always be an impostor to him.

“Is that really…” Harry began.

“The real Mad-Eye-Moody, Harry,” said Arthur Weasley calmly, dropping to the lab floor from the
broken stairs. He saw Steve next still sprawled between the wall and the floor then moved over to
him apologetically. “Oh, I’m so sorry about causing this little fright, Mr. Wraskon. Our Auror, Mr.
Moody, here was just being too cautious. Here, let me help you.”

Steve accepted Arthur’s extended hand and he stood upright on the floor, patting his robes clean
of dust. “Nothing to it, sir,” he said shakily.

“And you must be Stephanie!” said Arthur. “Nice to see you’re allright.”

She stood still on one spot on the floor, still looking scared, and nodded her head quickly at
Mr. Weasley.

“We’re here to rescue you, Mr. Wraskon. Ron told me that you have had a problem with Death
Eaters who had you trapped in here. We’ll be taking you to my home where you’ll staying under guard
for the night, though we need your cooperation and we’ll have to ask you some questions about this
case. By tomorrow you’ll be safely flown back to Ireland. I’m sorry to have heard the news about
Willard – I know the man quite well.”

Harry snapped his head at Arthur. He was surprised that he knew Willard like he said. He also
knew which country Steve lived in. This made more questions than answers, and Harry needed to know
more about Willard later, if he could have time talking with Mr. Weasley. Quite a small world, he
thought.

Steve nodded gratefully at Arthur. “That’s so kind of you, sir…”

“Please call me Arthur,” Arthur said. “Don’t worry about being discovered by Death Eaters that
you’ve gone, Mr.Wraskon. We’ll be applying some tricks in this hotel to make them think you’re
still here. Your testimony will only be heard by our trusted Aurors, too. I presume that about
covers all your concerns…”

“Steve. Steve’s the name, Arthur, thanks for your help. Thanks to Harry and Ron here, we
wouldn’t have the chance to slip away without being noticed.”

Arthur looked at his son with pride, much to Ron’s visible relief. Arthur however, was stroking
something inside his pocket. “Yes, they’re something, aren’t they? Well, we should get going now.
It gets more dangerous each passing second we’re here. I suggest you pack everything you have now
and let’s start popping out of here – besides, I think we’re all hungry!”

Moody was moving about the lab and looked around. “Was this how the lab looked like before
Potter made a mess out of it?”

Harry threw Moody a derisive look.

“No, sir,” replied Steve. “Harry helped us clean it up…”

Moody stared at Steve and Harry. “You cleaned the scene? You *cleaned out* an un-inspected
crime scene…” Moody shook his head; his magical eye spun speedily around and looked back behind his
skull, leaving only the white of his eyeball, making Stephanie scream again. “*Amateurs*!” he
mumbled under his breath.

“C’mon, Stephanie, let’s pack up our things upstairs,” Steve instructed his daughter looking
apprehensively at Moody, and they left the lab. Tonks approached Harry smilingly and held out her
hand to shake, which Harry readily accepted.

“Glad to meet you, Harry. I’m an Auror, too, like Moody. I’m part of Dumbledore’s Order.”

“Dumbledore’s Order?”

Tonks chuckled nervously – she had realized she said too much already in a single sentence.
“Y-you’ll find about it soon anyway,” she recovered. “I heard Dumbledore wants to meet you very
soon, something about your vacation…”

Harry didn’t say anything to answer Tonks, and he only nodded uneasily. Dumbledore had already
found out. It didn’t make him feel good. He’ll have to face the music soon.

“Well, don’t you worry, Harry, we’re here to help keep your feet dry. See you later; I have to
go and oversee security…” She walked away looking sour on the face past Moody, who watched her
intently at the corner of his eyes.

“Very good, Tonks,” he hissed sarcastically. “What *next*, the Daily Prophet?”

Ron came again to Harry and helped him off the table.

“Sorry about taking long to come back with help, Harry. I had to wait for Dad to come home
before I told him. He was furious at first we’d been away without his knowing, said it was
completely dangerous and irresponsible, but after I explained to him what was happening and told
him who was in trouble, he calmed down. Unfortunately, he confiscated your Portkey…”

Harry groaned. “Why?”

“He says it’s a misused Muggle artifact,” Ron shrugged. “He said he felt bound to take it away,
even from us. Well, I admit it’s a bit dangerous especially if it falls to Muggle hands – imagine a
Muggle lighting up a cigarette and then popping up on Mars…”

Harry laughed. Ron had a point, and he thought he probably didn’t need it anymore. Such was the
power of the object to transport you to any place you wanted without having to worry about the
Ministry of Magic breathing down you neck, he considered. He agreed it as a very dangerous object
if it fell to *both* innocent and evil hands, but he still thought it was cool to have a go
with it and go somewhere far away – like America.

Harry and company stayed at the hotel for half an hour more before they all agreed to pull out
to the Burrow. Steve and Stephanie had already packed their belongings and were ready to go. Moody,
with the help of Tonks and two other Aurors Harry didn’t know (but felt that Dumbledore and Arthur
trusted), treated the hotel with various spells to conceal the departure of Steve and
Stephanie.

One curious spell they did was the conjuring of ghost-like replicas of father and daughter to
stand in for them. Moody explained to Harry (in a very warm manner this time unlike his earlier
demeanor) that it was the counter-charm for the spell the Death Eaters have left to know at once if
they had gone. He pointed out that it’s a charm restricted only for the use of Aurors, and that it
was banned because it’s the favorite of people seeking to break out convicted relatives in
Azkaban.

Harry and Ron didn’t have to use their own (already confiscated) Portkey because Arthur had
already fashioned his own out of a tattered book. Moody and the rest of the Aurors would then
follow soon by apparation.

“Gather round,” said Arthur and instructed Harry, Ron, Steve, and Stephanie to touch the book so
that they’d be whisked off to the Burrow. Soon afterwards, they popped in at the sitting room in
the Burrow. Molly graciously welcomed Steve and Stephanie to her humble home, while Ginny and the
twins were preparing the table outdoors for dinner. They had fashioned an invisible tent to protect
them from the cold weather and snowflakes when they would eat outside.

Stephanie was visibly delighted with many Weasley gadgets and wizard objects and carefully
examined each without touching them.

“This place is very cool!” she said, making Ron smile. “I’ve never seen much wizard thingies in
my life – I’ve been brought up as a Muggle by my parents, you know.”

Molly went busy cooking up a huge dinner for everybody while Steve was being interviewed by the
Aurors Harry now knew as Sidney Nettleson and Martin Colby. He answered every question
satisfactorily and there was nothing new for Harry to hear, but he listened on attentively
anyway.

Later Arthur pulled Harry away quietly and started asking about what lighters did for Muggles –
Harry explained that it is generally used to help start a fire, just like matches but without the
trash. Arthur was so interested with the subject of lighters that he wanted to try restarting the
already happily-crackling fire at the fireplace, but Harry told him that’s how actually to start
this Portkey, much to his disappointment. What really Harry wanted to discuss with Arthur then was
about how he had gotten to know Willard and what he really did aside from running his hotel. He had
his chance to find out over supper at the lighted backyard (protected from the freezing weather),
when Arthur divulged to Steve some other events similar to Willard’s case.

“It’s a pleasant surprise that my own son had met the man I’ve gotten to know since the
805th Magical Potions Bureau Annual Recognition Rites twelve years ago – he was a hit
with the doctorate crowd. Willard was pretty good on discovering useful concoctions despite his
incomplete education at Hogwarts, you know. I became really alarmed when Ron told me Willard
Wraskon was missing. I immediately told Dumbledore about this and he got concerned, too. We kind of
found it odd that some other known – and less known – chemists or potion masters were reportedly
rounded up by Death Eaters in a span of two days!”

Everyone around the long picnic table except the Aurors looked at each other, finding the news
peculiar.

“How many were they, Mr. Weasley?” asked Harry, his eyebrows furrowing.

It was Tonks who answered for Arthur. “There are about three high-profile disappearances. Well,
there’s Franz Gerbeaux, Jill Jessop, and Rudy Roberts – all from London, and several lesser known
but good potion inventors including Wraskon. Well, each of them has had well known and useful
discoveries – that’s about the other connection we could think of, but nothing of which are deadly
or destructive.”

“Thanks, Tonks. So I bet the Burrow they’re cooking up something else with their group of
prisoners,” said Arthur darkly, “something new and possibly terrible, but the problem is we have no
clue exactly what…”

“I remember some potion masters missing during You-Know-Who’s last reign,” said Steve
thoughtfully, “and I think this is just a repeat of that. Well, whatever they were working on was
never known and all of those missing then had never been found…” Steve stopped talking abruptly,
and nervously glanced at his daughter who was sitting down beside him.

Harry saw Stephanie drop her fork, glared at her father and said, “Dad, please don’t talk like
that…”

“Sorry, dear…”

“Unfortunately that’s true, Ms. Wraskon,” said Moody insensitively, making Stephanie look at him
with teary eyes. “That’s history - you weren’t born then - and it’s repeating itself. You’re still
young, but you can make a difference by doing something to help us fight against You-Know-Who. So
stop brooding about the present and start thinking what you could do for the future – *be
proactive*!” He slammed his palm on the table and Stephanie jumped. “It doesn’t help to sulk
about while You-Know-Who’s got the upper hand…”

“That – that’s fine, for now, Moody,” said Molly calmly. Steve looked surprised at Moody’s
behavior, but he just pursed his lips and rolled his eyes about. Apparently Moody had been also
taken aback with himself, looked at everyone around the table, took a swig out of his personal
flask, and calmed down. “Sorry about that, Wraskon…”

“I g-get your point, sir, thanks,” said Stephanie, who tried to look her bravest with tears yet
falling down her cheeks. What Moody said and how he said it had an effect on Stephanie. Harry only
hoped it wasn’t negative.

“One thing’s for sure,” said Arthur, motioning to Ginny to offer Stephanie something sweet to
eat, “You-Know-Who has something up his sleeve and we won’t exactly know what until we could only
see the dirt marks he’ll leave behind – but that’ll be too late then and we’d all be busy
scrambling to minimize the damage.”

“Don’t you have any spies at all, Mr. Weasley?” said Harry hopefully, and Moody’s magical eye
focused on him. “I know Death Eaters have blended in with the Ministry for ages.”

“Almost,” said Tonks. “We’re working on it, Harry. We don’t just tread dangerously on Death
Eater territory. We have laws that limit what we could do and Death Eaters don’t…”

Arthur cleared his throat very loudly, as if he was really making sure Tonks had heard it.
Moody’s face went red, and his Magical eye snapped from Harry to Tonks, who hid her face with both
hands.

Arthur cleared his throat again. “We tried to connect the dots, sifted through all the clues and
possibilities, and we’re still left facing a blank wall. Since the last murders days ago it’s been
pretty quiet. I say these murders were just diversionary ploys to throw the Aurors off because they
all happened at almost the same time the chemists have disappeared. Then again, they may be totally
unrelated – it’s frustrating to say the least. A high-ranking Ministry official went missing, too,
y’know. Daedalus Lowrie. Said he was going to visit a good friend and he never reported back for a
week already. Not like him who was never absent from his job his whole career.”

“Daedelus…I’ve seen him before,” said Ron. “Back in You-Know-What! He was reporting to
You-Know-Who.”

“That’s right - and probably murdered, too,” Arthur added. “Why, you ask. Well, let’s just say
all the known Death Eaters are either in Azkaban, dead, or pretending to be working for our side.
They never go missing. It’ll be a big surprise if he turns up working at the Ministry one day.”

“So what did Minister Fudge say about this, Mr. Weasley?” asked Harry.

“Lowrie’s just A.W.O.L., that old fart said,” Arthur said bitterly. “I’m sure he’s lying just to
cover up any suspicion of Death Eater activity. He’s living in his own dreamland and the wizard
world is already paying dearly for it!”

“Please, that’s enough talking about You-Know-Who for tonight,” said Molly nervously. “Let’s
finish dinner and dessert and we could then go upstairs to relax. It’s been stressful; we might all
go down with heart problems when we keep ourselves at it…”

Everyone around the group agreed with Molly and fell silent, now obviously preferring to think
of other things besides bad news while they savored her excellent cooking.

Just then Hedwig arrived and dropped a letter to Harry, which surprised him. He then realized
after all what had been happening to him lately he had completely forgotten about Russelpunk.

He fumbled with the envelope when he tried to see what was written on front of it. The letter
was addressed to “Harry Potter, from Professor Rowel Russelpunk, G.W.D.” and that made him breathe
a sigh of relief – if it were still the same letter he wrote to the professor, that would have been
pretty scary. This new letter meant that he was alive and not dead like he saw him in his dream,
which was not of the present but probably of the future. Hoping Russelpunk could hold out until
they got back to Hogwarts, Harry then thought he needed to learn more who his teacher really was
and why he’s in great possible danger with Voldemort like his dream had revealed.

“Late night delivery, Potter,” said Moody, his magical eye focused on the envelope. “From Peter
Pan, I presume?”

“Peter Pan? What do you mean?”

“Russelpunk,” Moody chuckled. “Never grows up, does he, Arthur? Forever young, he is.”

“That’s Russelpunk,” said Arthur, pointing a concurring finger at Moody. “Can’t say goodbye to
the child within, of course. It’s a good leap for his, er, late maturity being hired as DADA
teacher, of course. Very interested with the Dark Arts…”

“He is?” said Harry.

“He’s dipped his nose deeply into the books about You-Know-Who and his Death Eaters - he knows
just about everything known about them - that makes a good DADA teacher. Other than that, he’s a
klutz - if it weren’t for Dumbledore’s desperation to fill the DADA post…”

Moody laughed very hoarsely. “Knowing him, he’d rather start his own dance troupe than a
teaching job all his life. What’s his letter about, Potter?”

Harry was further irked by Moody’s intrusive attitude, but he read the letter anyway. “He’s just
thanking me for suggesting good spells to teach during next class…”

Moody roared with laughter again. “That’s a real good DADA teacher, all right!”

“C’mon, Harry,” hissed Ron. He looked extremely annoyed. “Let’s get out of here before I poke
his eye out.”

Harry and Ron excused themselves, stood up, and cleaned up their plates at the kitchen. Ginny
and Stephanie followed afterwards, looking very satisfied with the dinner they ate. Stephanie had
now regained herself and kept thanking Harry all night for his and Ron’s rescue, which made him
feel real good about knowing that he had saved them out of a deadly situation. However the feeling
was always dampened later on by the fact that they could do nothing for Willard at the present.

Harry knew that being a student would keep him from actively rescuing Willard before he was lost
forever, and that was very, very maddening for him. He heard what Steve said about the missing who
never came back. It appeared the only thing he could do was to hope for his safety and that he’d be
rescued by real Aurors very soon. If only he was a full-fledged wizard right now, he angrily
thought.

Everybody was now finished with dinner and it was almost time for bed. Steve and Stephanie would
be escorted back to Heathrow airport for the next flight to Ireland by the next day, and Harry made
it a point to say goodbye to them in the morning. He had grown attached to Willard’s brother and
niece, and he agreed with Stephanie to send owls with her, much to her excitement. It was only
natural that he had to keep in touch with her for they have bonded in less than a day because of
the grief they shared for Willard. Add to that, he would always want to know how she was doing in a
regular basis, sending news regarding what they had learned about the status of his good friend and
her beloved uncle.

The sleeping arrangements at the Burrow tonight (due of the unexpected guests) were Harry and
Ron to share their room with Steve, Stephanie to sleep in Ginny’s room with Tonks, and Moody and
the two Aurors to stay in Percy’s empty room.

“Good night,” said Harry, Ron, and Steve to each other. Steve almost instantly fell asleep out
of exhaustion while Ron opened another Chudley Cannon book to read, learning how to ignore Moody’s
annoying tendencies to get in their room and search for anything that looks out of the ordinary.
Harry, meanwhile, seemed to have started a new habit of secretly taking out Hermione’s picture and
staring at it before going to sleep. After a couple of minutes of looking at her picture (and
sighing after wishing she was around again), he replaced it under his mattress and began reflecting
on other things.

For him it looked like new problems and concerns had been steadily mounting since the week they
had returned from their encounter with Voldemort. First there were the murders, Hermione’s accident
in class and her lingering (though temporary) condition, his unresolved case with Dumbledore, and
the prospect of Death Eaters at Hogwarts after Christmas. Adding to that lately was his bad dream
concerning Russelpunk, plus Willard’s kidnapping (which kept him worrying a lot about) and the
other seemingly connected cases of disappearances for a purpose no one ever knew of.

*Oh yeah, don’t forget about your new strange feelings with Hermione,* said Harry to
himself. *Now that wasn’t a real problem, was it? It’s fairly manageable, I guess, and possibly a
wonderful thing at the same time.*

Harry sighed. He didn’t want to find out if there would be any more trouble in store for him and
the people he knew in the near future. But knowing himself, such things were inevitable, like he
was magnet for trouble with his very best of friends being dragged into it. It was all because of
Voldemort – that cursed being who’s been merely a thorn at his side when the whole of the wizard
world dreaded of his existence. It seemed to Harry Voldemort was born to make his life hell and was
also keen on removing everyone who cared for him to make his life even more miserable.

Did he know about his relationship with Willard and was that why he was taken away? Possibly.
But it could only have been a coincidence that he had met Willard at the same time Voldemort had
learned of his usefulness and decided to take him away.

Harry began wishing he hadn’t known Willard at all because maybe he would just have been another
statistic to him after all these disappearances, but then again, things might have been different
today without his direct help. He could still be hiding from the law – he didn’t know, but he
couldn’t deny Willard’s generosity and good advice had been a big factor that made him and Ron
think properly on what to do next in a very confusing and difficult time of their lives. In the
end, everything went just right and that was when he felt grateful again to have met the very kind
fellow.

For Harry, Willard was the personification of angels walking about the earth, just waiting to
lend a hand and making a difference with the lives of people needing help like him, and for that he
felt very blessed. Harry sniffed and wiped the silent tears that fell from his eyes for Willard
with his pillow until he became too tired to hold himself awake.

-o0o-

In the middle of the same night, three white-robed, hooded, and silver masked wizards silently
appeared from thin air just outside the Burrow. They looked up at the uppermost window certain it
was that room where their next target was soundly asleep. Handling a wand at one hand and with
something glinting under the moonlight at the other, they moved in to begin their mission for the
Dark Lord tonight.

-o0o-

**Next Chapter: Death Eaters Attack!**



8. Death Eaters Attack
----------------------

DISCLAIMER: Please see Prologue Page.

A/N: A very late thanks to Becca Angelic and Muirnin for there reviews for Chapter 5. :-) The
story continues…

*****Chapter 7:** **Death Eaters Attack*****

Everyone at the Burrow was deep in sleep, unaware that three hooded men had quietly entered the
kitchen. They were light footed, as quiet as the night, and they moved ever so slowly deeper into
the Weasley house as if they had all night to do what they came for. Stealthily they crept up the
staircase, not making any creaking noise on the wooden floor past Arthur and Molly’s room, then
past Percy’s where the Aurors were asleep, and rounded up the landing leading to the door of Ron’s
room at the right.

One of the hooded men pointed towards the door, and the other two nodded. That was where their
target was sleeping. Again, quietly, they got further up the stairs and opened Ron’s door, and saw
Harry, Ron, and Steve asleep on their beds. Though they could not see their faces, they knew who to
look for by the color of their hair. Moonlight flooded the room from the window; one of hooded men
walked closer the beds, bypassing Steve’s and then stopping at Harry and Ron’s bedside to take a
good look at them.

The hooded man at Ron’s bedside glanced back at his companions to confirm the identity of their
primary target. They nodded in concurrence when he pointed to the redhead. Looking back down at
Ron, he raised his hand holding something metallic glinting against the moonlight and got ready to
do his job, but before he could do it…

*BANG*!

A deafening crack disturbed the serene night (accompanied by a bright flash of white light) that
filled Ron’s room, throwing anyone off their feet who was standing on the floor. Harry, Ron, and
Steve all woke up yelling in fright, startled and confused by the sudden surge of activity in the
small room.

“Harry! What the bloody hell’s…” Ron shouted, as he rolled off to the floor from his bed,
rubbing his eyes with his fingers.

Harry saw the masked Death Eaters in the middle of the room screaming as they held their
bleeding ears and cleared their eyes from the bright spot that lingered in their vision, except for
one who was already engaged with Mad-Eye-Moody in a scuffle.

Harry had no time to look for his wand and threw himself towards one of the trespassers and
tackled him to the floor. Steve had raised his wand but was disarmed by the other Death Eater with
the Disarmament spell sending him back flying towards Ron who had just regained his footing. Ron
caught Steve’s full weight and he fell back along with him to the corner in pain (Steve was a large
man to catch). They both gasped for lost breath.

Harry was now wrestling on top of the Death Eater he had picked to fight; as they struggled, he
felt the hand of the Death Eater grasp his neck to choke him! At the same time another bright flash
exploded around the room and Harry heard someone being thrown off to the wall. He didn’t see who it
was but he hoped it wasn’t Moody. The hand tightened even more on Harry’s neck, suffocating him of
air and draining him of strength; the Death Eater had pushed Harry off of himself, threw him aside,
and left him to gasp for air on the floor.

“No! Keep away from me!” yelled Ron as he kicked his feet on thin air to stop the Death Eater
advancing towards him without any opposition. Steve slid himself at the floor to shield Ron from
the Death Eater, who looked determined to get to him. Steve frantically resisted all attempts by
the Death Eater to reach Ron by deflecting advances by flailing his hands and kicking his own feet
wildly.

Then they heard more running footsteps coming up the stairs. The Death Eaters looked back at the
door to get ready for more incoming threat.

Just as soon as Tonks appeared at the doorway, she quickly dropped to the floor as a spell went
past her head, destroying the wall behind her, revealing a screaming Ginny and Stephanie who were
holding on to each other in terror from the other room. She quickly shot her own curse and it hit
one of the Death Eaters, jacketing him in an electrical current that shook him in pain. The Auror
Sydney Nettleson had then leaped on top of Tonks from behind and moved forward to attack.

Another set of footsteps came running up the stairs. Feeling that they were in danger of being
overwhelmed, the Death Eaters whipped around, sprinted towards the open window, and threw
themselves through it while spells and curses made by Tonks and Sydney overtook them
harmlessly.

Harry lifted himself off the floor and ran to the window to see where they had landed, but when
he did see the grounds below the Death Eaters seemed to have vanished – they had apparently
disapparated in midair! Nettleson and Colby doubled back towards the door and ran down the stairs,
hoping to see if they could still catch the Death Eaters around the grounds.

“Ron, are you all right?” called Harry.

Ron emerged from under his bed stood slowly upright with Steve.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m okay - what was that all about?” Ron said, shaken.

“I have no idea,” Harry said absently. He now saw Tonks kneeling down beside the body of Moody,
feeling for his pulse. Harry ran and dropped to one knee opposite Tonks and anxiously said, “Is he
dead?”

Arthur and the twins alighted at the doorway and checked if everyone was okay, wands in
hand.

“He’s okay - stunned, fortunately,” replied Tonks. “What the hell happened here? How did those
Death Eaters come in here?”

“I don’t know, but we were awakened by a big bang and the next thing we knew they were all over
us!”

“You okay, Ron? Harry?” said Arthur anxiously. He looked around with a very serious look on his
face. “Things are getting hot - I got to speak to Dumbledore. Nobody goes to sleep tonight when
nobody’s awake!” He got out of the room and went down the stairs. Molly ran up and hugged Ron very
tightly and fixed everything on him that looked messy. Steve Wraskon on the other hand, just sighed
in relief upon seeing his daughter unscathed at the corridor.

Soon, Moody stirred and woke up after Tonks had muttered “*Enervate!*” Harry helped him to
sit upright and Moody shook his head to fight off his grogginess. “Anyone got hurt?” Moody blearily
said.

“Moody, what happened?” said Tonks, ignoring his question.

Moody saw everyone in the room looking at him intently, eager to know what really happened when
they were all asleep. Moody felt there was no point in not telling them, so he talked straightly to
the point.

“I couldn’t go to sleep with everyone snoring,” he replied shortly. “We were all open for
attack! I told you so! I was moving about every room to see everyone’s all right and I decided to
sit around longer in Ronald’s room. Fortunately I did because then they came…

“Three Death Eaters had come upstairs undetected – they didn’t know I was behind the door. I
watched them deep in the shadows, waited for the right moment to attack when I was sure how many
they really were. I counted three, nothing more - they went over to Ron Weasley and he looked like
he was moving in for the kill, so I pounced. That woke everybody up.”

Harry and Ron thought earlier that Moody was a paranoid freak and they were very annoyed each
time he looked around their room for signs of “disturbances” they thought were only a figment of
his imagination. But after being through that fully unexpected encounter, they now admitted he was
right about being wary especially during these days of living dangerously when Voldemort has
returned. If it weren’t for Moody’s constant vigilance, they didn’t know what would have happened
to them now. One thing they learned, though, is that complacency could cost them their life.

Harry thanked Mad-Eye-Moody for protecting him and Ron, and after he did so, he saw a huge smile
budding out of Moody’s ridgy face. “I’m bound to protect whoever’s in danger from the Dark
Wizards,” Moody said, “but you’re welcome, Potter.”

“The Death Eaters looked like they were gunning for Ron, not me,” observed Harry. “Why?”

Moody grunted when he thought it was strange. “He was their target to kill, not you, I wager. I
find that odd, they could have scored big with You-Know-Who if they got you, Harry.”

“Kill me?” said Ron, horrified. “Why’d they want to kill me? I’m just nobody…”

“You-Know-Who probably knows about you, Ron,” Tonks replied. “He saw you before, didn’t he? In
You-Know-What, right?”

Ron nodded.

“I think he’s sending his Death Eaters to kill people who’re very close to his enemies,” said
Moody darkly. “Yes, that’s what he kept doing the last time, to break them. I have the feeling
we’re not the only ones who’s been attacked tonight. We’ll know about it later after Arthur talks
to some people.”

*People who’re close to his enemies,* Harry thought. Ron was one. Then he went pale.

*Hermione.*

Harry didn’t say anything and suddenly ran out of the room. Ron had seen him and ran after him
from behind. He had caught up with Harry at the middle of the stairs and held him by the arm rather
forcefully, causing Harry to look back at him. The look in Harry’s face somehow terrified Ron.

“Harry, where’re you going?”

“Ron, I just remembered Hermione!” he said urgently. “Moody thinks we’re not the only ones
attacked tonight - she might be in trouble right now, too! We got to get to her!”

Ron’s eyes literally bugged out of their sockets upon realizing that. “Then how could we know or
warn her at once?” he said, starting to panic. “Hedwig’s too slow – Pig’s too slow… ”

“I was thinking of stealing back the Portkey from your Dad…”

“That’s easy, Harry, but have you ever been at the Grangers before?”

Harry blew off a lot of air. He knew what Ron meant. If he did manage to get the Portkey, he
still couldn’t use it to go to Hermione because he had never been at the Granger household in his
life, thus he had no point of reference for the Portkey to work.

“No, I haven’t,” he admitted in despair. “Ron, please help me think!”

“We’ll go to Dad for help – let’s go!”

They ran down the stairs again towards the place they knew where Mr. Weasley probably was – the
fireplace. They found him there, down on all fours, talking to the ghostly head of Dumbledore
hanging over the green flames via floo powder. Harry and Ron kept their distance from Mr. Weasley
to listen in to their conversation.

“The attacks are getting frequent again tonight, Arthur,” said Dumbledore in a very cool manner.
“As of the last hour, we’ve received reports of over ten separate Death Eater attacks all over
Britain, not including yours. There could be more, and we’re still waiting for other reports to
come in. An entire Muggle family has been found dead in Bristol. I never expected that the Burrow
would be chosen for attack tonight. I’m so sorry, I should have at least warned you at once when
the reports were coming in…”

“That’s okay, Albus, it doesn’t matter now,” Arthur said calmly. “We’re just thankful nothing
really terrible happened to us here, well, except for the big hole at Ginny’s room…”

Dumbledore nodded. “Arthur, You must make plans to evacuate the Burrow to Grimmauld as soon as
possible. I’ll have Sirius get the house ready for all of you. There’s something else you need to
do that’s urgent. Here’s a…”

“Sirius?” said Harry aloud and a little late in coming after hearing his godfather’s name. Mr.
Weasley and Dumbledore had heard him. Ron looked at Harry furiously, who had covered his mouth with
his own hand.

“Harry, come over here where I could see you better,” said Dumbledore calmly. Harry reluctantly
obeyed, walked over to the fireplace, and bent down in front of it.

“Professor, I’m very sorry for…” he began, but Dumbledore gently raised his hand to stop him
from talking further.

“We will talk about that later, Harry. But first I need to know if you’re all right.”

“Yes sir, I am but…”

“How about Ronald?”

“He’s okay, sir. From what I’ve observed the Death Eaters may have come for him, not me, from
the way they attacked…good thing Moody was alert tonight. ”

Dumbledore simply nodded again. “Wait a moment whilst I send something over to your side by
floo…”

“Sir, I need to warn…” Harry began again, but stopped talking when a purple night cap (possibly
what Dumbledore might have been wearing tonight while sleeping) popped out from the fireplace and
landed on to the floor. Harry picked it up, not knowing what it was for.

Dumbledore suddenly said, “Don’t *touch*!”

Startled, Harry dropped the night cap back on the floor again. “Sir, what’s this for? I’m quite
warm tonight, thank you, but there’s something…”

“That’s a Portkey, Harry,” interrupted Dumbledore. “Arthur, I need you to send somebody over to
Miss Granger’s house to see if she and her parents are all right. She should be warned of what’s
been happening tonight. From there, I trust you know what to do. Do it quickly! Time is of the
essence!”

Harry held his breath in pleasant surprise at Dumbledore for his thoughtfulness and concern to
help Hermione, which was actually the thing he tried to ask him for. Before Harry could thank him,
though, Dumbledore’s head disappeared with a pop.

“Mr. Weasley…” Harry started as they both stood up.

“No, not you, Harry,” he said, and Harry dropped his shoulders in disappointment. “You’re
virtually defenseless along with Hermione if you get attacked there. I know just the right
people…Fred! George!”

Fred and George came running down the stairs to Mr. Weasley’s front.

“Fred, George, use that Portkey on the floor to go to Hermione. If nothing has happened yet to
her yet, wake her up and instruct her to communicate with me immediately via floo powder. Don’t
worry. Her fireplace has been secretly registered by Dumbledore to the floo network since her first
year. If you’re too late, don’t stay there a second too long and get back here at once! Here’s some
floo…”

Arthur grabbed a handful of floo powder from their storage can above the fireplace, put it in a
wooden jar, and gave it to Fred. “I’ll tell you what to do next when we’re connected. Whatever
happens, do not use the floo powder to get back here. Is that clear?” Fred and George nodded. They
were uncharacteristically looking very serious tonight.

“Good. Go.”

Fred and George both touched the nightcap and soon they both vanished. Harry began to get
increasingly anxious and paced around the living room, snatching glances at the fireplace to see if
they already got connected with the Granger’s fireplace. He silently prayed that Hermione was
unharmed. If what Moody said about Voldemort killing close friends and relatives of his enemies was
correct, there was a big possibility that Hermione could be in extreme danger.

As more time past without any floo signal coming from the Grangers, Harry was now getting
horrible thoughts that the twins may have arrived too late, discovering Hermione sprawled dead in
her house, and that Fred and George may be debating at the moment on what approach to take to break
out the news to them. Now if that happened, he would be very devastated and he might as well go
crazy. There was also the possibility that the twins have been ambushed and killed just after they
popped in at the Grangers. He literally counted the seconds in agony. A few more minutes have
passed and there was still no sign of them yet.

“Harry, calm down, please!” Ron said severely. He was sitting at the edge of his chair, rubbing
his palms on his knees in worried anticipation. “You’re making me even more nervous if you keep
pacing around like that!”

“What’s taking them so long?” Harry whined.

Nobody knew the answer. Worrying alongside Harry, they chose not to talk.

Nettleson and Colby came inside the house from the yard with looks of defeat on their faces.
“They’ve slipped away, those Death Eaters…damn!” said Colby. “No sign of them anywhere.”

“You’ve seen them disapparate in midair, haven’t you, Potter?” asked Nettleson. Harry just
nodded impatiently, even though he just thought they did.

“Please stand down and have a cup of tea with Colby in the kitchen, Syd,” said Arthur with
regret. “It’s not your fault…but thanks.”

Just then, the fireplace came to life and Harry jumped over the couch to crouch in front of the
fire, hoping to see Hermione at the other end. Fortunately it was her, to Harry’s immense
relief.

“Harry!” she said breathlessly. “I heard what happened! Are you all right? Are you hurt?”

“We’re all fine, Hermione,” he said quickly. “Are you okay? Did anyone come in trespassing at
your house tonight?”

Hermione shook her head. “Nobody attacked us tonight, Harry! Nothing’s happened at all. We’re
all right…”

“Thank goodness!!!” Harry breathed out. Arthur squeezed Harry at his shoulder feeling greatly
relieved, too.

“Hermione, why did you take long to floo us? I was worried to death about you,” said Harry.

“Sorry, about that,” said Hermione, smiling at first at what Harry had said about worrying to
death for her, and then looking embarrassed about something. “But it’s just that…it’s just…” she
hesitated and looked behind her, and Harry jumped upon seeing a moaning Fred sitting at the couch
being nursed by George with an ice bag on his head. Mr. and Mrs. Granger were in robes, looking
down at them from behind, looking amused.

“What in the world *happened* to him?” said Arthur in complete surprise.

Hermione looked back at Harry and Arthur and explained, “Well, you know, it’s the dead of the
night and I felt someone creeping in my room. I thought he was a stalker and I pounded his head
with my First grade cricket bat like there was no tomorrow…” Hermione shrugged. “It turned out to
be just Fred. I had to make sure he was all right before I’d contact you. Sorry…”

Fred muttered bitterly from the background. After all the bad things that were happening, Harry
had finally gotten the urge to laugh. Hermione winced as she stretched her right arm.

“Hermione, what’s the matter?” Harry said, his eyebrows furrowing in concern.

“I think I overstretched a muscle when I swung the bat. It hurts a little. It’s nothing…”

“Hermione,” Arthur said, “do your parents mind if I talked to them for a while?”

After Mr. and Mrs. Granger positioned themselves in front of their fireplace, Arthur explained
to them what the real situation was in the wizard world and asked their permission to evacuate
Hermione with Harry and the Weasley’s to a safe place until the situation calmed down
significantly. At first they were shocked to learn about the tumultuous state of affairs in their
daughter’s alternate world, but they eventually agreed in the end when they realized it was for her
and their own good. They were sad to let her go but they trusted what Arthur told them.

“How about my parents, Mr. Weasley?” asked Hermione, fearing that her parents were really open
for attack because they were Muggles and that they were alone without a witch around to defend
them.

“They’ll actually be much safer when you’re away, Hermione,” assured Arthur. “Death Eaters don’t
keep a good record of the names of young witches and their parents, but they do attack when they
detect Muggle-borns when they’re in the neighborhood. You can go back to them when we feel the
present danger has passed, don’t worry about it.”

“Well, I suppose,” said Hermione uncertainly and looked at her parents, who smiled back at her.
“Okay…”

“You have to get moving now, I’m afraid,” Arthur said. “Death Eaters may come in there
unexpectedly any moment. Gather up all your things, including all your school stuff and use the
Portkey back to the Burrow with Fred and George – use the Portkey, never floo in! As fast as you
can, understand?”

Hermione nodded. “I understand, thank you. I’ll have to talk to my parents for a bit,
though…”

“That’s fine, but please don’t take as long as necessary. Fred, George, come back to the Burrow
as soon as possible. Don’t keep your guard down over there.” Fred and George murmured in the
affirmative. “We won’t rest until your safe arrival here.”

“Okay, thank you, Mr. Weasley. See you all soon…” Hermione said, and her head disappeared over
the flames.

Harry breathed another sigh of relief, sank back to the couch, and smiled broadly. Though he
wouldn’t be happy until he’d be with Hermione at the Burrow, he felt great seeing her unharmed over
the floo network. He then thought about the other Death Eater attacks over Britain tonight.

It looked like that Voldemort’s Death Eaters were really getting on an early rampage these days
- sowing terror to the whole wizard world as if there was no tomorrow. Perhaps this was how it felt
during Voldemort’s last reign of terror before Harry was born. He believed this was just the tip of
the iceberg of more terrible things to come. He shuddered at the thought.

Arthur then threw another pinch of floo at the fireplace, and Dumbledore’s head came back over
the flames.

“How is she, Arthur?” he asked instantly.

“Hermione Granger’s okay, Albus. She said there was no attack at her place. They’ll be taking
the Portkey back to the Burrow real soon.”

“That’s good news,” Dumbledore said with a slight smile. “I just got word that a pack of black
dogs the size of bulls had attacked a Muggle resort hotel at Longsley. Several Muggles are missing
and scores were hurt. I am not aware of any species of those animals ever existed before, and I
suspect the hand of Lord Voldemort in that attack.”

“Could they have been Hybrids?” said Arthur, horror-struck. “He’s getting real aggressive, isn’t
he?”

Harry meanwhile, swore he had heard large dogs barking when he was at Xanthius. Could they have
been those who made those barking noises?

“It could be a test attack or just a diversion to throw us off with his real intentions, I don’t
know,” sighed Dumbledore, “but to me his new approach seems to be to hit us harder and not to care
about the Statute of Secrecy anymore. It would work well for him, too, instead of being secretive
and limited in action. The Ministry of Magic’s resources are spread too thin – they’re on a frenzy
covering up that little incident in Longsley with all the wizards they could spare to subject every
Muggle with memory charms.”

“And after firing off the good Aurors…” Arthur shook his head. “Why can’t Fudge see the glaring
signs at all?”

“I don’t believe he couldn’t see it, Arthur. He thinks he could keep the true state of affairs
from the general public forever. We’ll discuss the situation further later in the morning. When can
we expect you to come in here at our place?”

Arthur asked to Ron quietly to see if Steve and Stephanie Wraskon were around within earshot.
When Ron told him they were still upstairs, Arthur said, “As we can’t floo in there, we’ll have to
wait for sunrise and take the normal transport. I’ll have Nettleson and Colby bring the Wraskons to
Heathrow, while Moody, Tonks, and I will bring everyone to Grimmauld.”

“Very well, I’ll see you all in the morning. Be careful, Arthur.” Dumbledore then vanished.
Arthur stood up, arching his aching back.

“Hybrid?” said Ron. “What’re hybrids, Dad?”

“In simpler terms, Ron, *monsters*,” said Arthur plainly. He patted Ron on his shoulder,
and walked off to the kitchen tiredly to join Nettleson and Colby.

“I heard dogs barking back in Xanthius,” Harry told Ron quietly as soon as Arthur was in the
kitchen. “Big dogs.”

“You, too? I thought I was hearing things back there then. D’you think they’re the same ones
that attacked the Muggles?”

“Well, if Dumbledore says they looked like the size of bulls, then I guess they were.”

Ron whistled. Harry, meanwhile, sat down on the couch to wait for Hermione to come while Ron
decided to go to the kitchen to drink a few glasses of water. Harry didn’t feel like calming down
until he’d see Hermione all right in the Burrow. He walked over to the nearest window and let out a
deep exhalation of air from his lungs.

It has been a wild weekend for everyone, he thought. It was only now he noticed that it’s been
only less than two days and he had at least three stressful encounters already. Two turned out to
be false alarms, and the most recent one was the most serious and potentially the deadliest. It was
lucky that Moody was in alert mode tonight, or else he didn’t know what might have been the outcome
of the Death Eaters’ unexpected visit. It was possible that he would have had one less best friend
today.

Why did the Death Eaters seem to have been bent on hurting or killing Ron while Harry was also
there? Moody had a point – he could have been chosen to be killed instead of Ron. Voldemort would
surely be glad his Death Eaters had already gotten rid of him.

*It was dark and you were wrestling – surely they couldn’t have recognized you from all the
commotion,* Harry heard himself say.

Nevertheless, Ron may be a real target now, he thought, because Voldemort might be trying take
away everything that made him happy as a new strategy. Voldemort had seen him in Xanthius; Hermione
wasn’t there so that’s probably the reason why she wasn’t attacked at all – or maybe *yet*.
Harry didn’t find it impossible for Voldemort to learn who his dearest friends were. He had many
spies going around freely and covertly – Lucius Malfoy was one and was probably Voldemort’s best
source of information.

Harry sighed and shook his head. One thing was for certain - it was getting more and more
dangerous each day for him and his best friends, he sensed. Voldemort may not be gunning for him
only, but probably Ron and Hermione now as well. He’d have to talk about it with his friends real
soon – to warn them.

After a good five minutes of more pondering, Harry heard a whooshing sound from behind him and
he whipped around. Hermione had now arrived with the twins, and she looked doggedly tired (in
addition to the heavy bags of books she brought along with her).

“Hermione! I’m very glad you’re here!” Harry said happily and ran up to her. He then hugged her
tightly – Hermione was caught in pleasant surprise with Harry’s unusual show of affection to her.
She was enjoying Harry’s hug while it lasted, closing her eyes affectionately as she embraced him
back

Harry had almost tried to kiss her; midway he had sensed that he had overdone his welcome
greeting; he swallowed hard and withdrew quickly from Hermione, looking scared. As they stood a
couple of feet apart facing each other, they stared at each other not knowing what to say.

“Er, thanks, Harry, that was a – er – very *nice* welcome,” she said, her voice
shaking.

But now Harry couldn’t look straight at Hermione at all. He suddenly felt ashamed of what he had
done. “Sorry,” he said quietly, “I…”

“Harry, it’s…” Hermione began, but the deluge of Weasleys caving in to greet her drowned out
what she wanted to say. Everybody embraced her warmly (including Ron, who didn’t feel awkward
hugging her at all).

“Hermione, I want you to meet my new friend!” said Ginny excitedly. Ginny grabbed Hermione by
the wrist and pulled her towards the stairs. Harry had sunk himself intently behind the backs of
the Weasleys and he didn’t get to see Hermione turning her head around for him as she was dragged
upstairs.

-o0o-

Harry had returned to Ron’s room all by himself quietly, making sure he wouldn’t bump into
Hermione tonight. Earlier he had passed by Ginny’s room, whose door was just across Ron’s, and he
heard Hermione, Ginny, and Stephanie talking animatedly inside. The hole made by the Death Eater’s
spell was already magically repaired (probably by Fred or George), and it suited Harry fine because
he could slip in Ron’s room without being seen.

Minutes ago he would’ve done anything to see Hermione alive and well. Two days before he wished
she was going to spend her Christmas with them, but now he didn’t seem to want to anymore. It was
surprising to him as it was crazy.

Harry couldn’t understand it at all but he felt he didn’t want to meet Hermione again at least
for the short term, though he knew one of the reasons was that he was afraid of what Hermione might
say to him for hugging her very tightly *without her permission*.

Now he asked himself - when did he ever ask for permission to hug someone? Surely they had done
this before several times but they didn’t mean anything – they were just good friends. Of course,
they were still great friends, but now it felt all so different – he couldn’t explain why. He
couldn’t remember how Hermione reacted then, but he could have sworn she had glared at him. *Did
she or didn’t she?* To cap it all, he never felt ashamed to her before in his whole life.

Harry felt a few footsteps coming from the corridor. He hurriedly laid on his bed chest down and
looked away from the door, pretending to be asleep. A couple of people were whispering – the voices
were Ron and Hermione’s and he could make out what they were saying.

“Ron, where’s Harry?”

Harry heard the door creak open slowly and Ron said “Ah, there he is – probably fallen asleep
already. We’ve had a very wild day today you know…”

“Well, okay, good night then…”

“Sure…”

Harry closed his eyes tightly. She was looking for him. He could have just turned around and
told her he was still awake and they could talk, but something deep inside him told him not to. He
didn’t realize it, but he was actually acting very silly. There was nothing wrong about the hug –
it was all in his mind, but a big part of him wanted him to think that the hug wrecked it all, and
that it would take Hermione to treat him like a baby to soothe him, to tell him – in a nice long
conversation, *alone* - that it was all right and nothing wrong, and maybe they could kiss
then to make it all up…

*Aaarggghhh**!*

“Harry???” said Ron nervously, springing off his bed.

Harry paused. He quickly mumbled a few unrecognizable words to act as if he was just dreaming,
and it worked. Fortunately. Ron got back to his bed shortly and snored instantly.

Harry began to hate himself again. It was his sudden desire with Hermione could actually wreck a
five-year-old friendship between him, her, and Ron. Try as he might not to, Hermione kept flashing
in his mind*.*

*She looked beautiful at the Yule Ball last year, etcetera, etcetera, and etcetera!* It was
driving him mad.

*Forget about it, Harry. Get your act together, dungbrain! Tomorrow, maybe it will just go
away. If I could act like it’s nothing, it will just go away. Yeah…*

He didn’t remember it, but the last face he saw in his mind before he finally sunk to dreamland
was still Hermione’s.

-o0o-

Two hours later, Harry woke up with the sound of screaming.

“Wha – wha – wha’s happening?” he said sleepily. He felt very tired – he didn’t have more than a
couple of hours straight sleep tonight. Harry quickly sat upright on his bed after his senses
became keener, and dreaded it was another Death Eater attack. He hurriedly groped for his glasses
and saw that Ron’s bed was empty. It was still dark outside. There was another short scream, and it
came out from the girls’ room, and it sounded like it was Hermione.

Harry leaped towards the door with his wand in hand, crossed the narrow corridor, and stopped at
the girls’ room doorway where the screams seem to have been coming from.

Ron had just noticed Harry had alighted at the door and he said, “It’s just Hermione having a
bad dream.”

Harry nodded feeling slightly relieved, and watched Ginny sit down by Hermione’s head, hugging
her softly and patting her face gently to calm her down. Hermione was still deep in sleep, but it
looked like she was crying minus the tears.

“She seems to be getting down with a bad fever,” said Ginny apprehensively, feeling Hermione’s
burning forehead. “She was very healthy a few hours before…”

Harry found that really odd, too. Tonks, meanwhile, was on the mattress on the floor asleep and
absolutely unaware of what was happening around her.

“I’ll get a pan of water downstairs and mix up a potion,” Stephanie volunteered, and she went
out of the room carrying her potion kit downstairs with her.

Harry breathed deeply as Stephanie passed by him, wishing he was the one who was holding
Hermione instead of Ginny, but he later thought that girls have much better abilities to take care
of their own. Later Ron placed a hand behind his back, telling him that they can’t do anything at
the moment and it was best to leave the room. Harry pursed his lips and turned reluctantly around
for the door.

Hermione then spoke. “*Harry! Harry! Please don’t’ listen – please don’t listen…*”

“What?” said Harry, and he turned back to face Hermione and Ginny’s direction. “Hermione what’re
you…”

Ginny smiled slightly. “She’s just talking in her sleep, Harry,” she said, running her fingers
through Hermione’s hair.

“Oh,” Harry nodded. He tightened his lips again. “Okay…”

“*Please don’t – please don’t…*”

Whatever Hermione was dreaming it was probably nothing, he thought. Like Ginny said, she was
getting a bad fever, and she was probably getting slightly delirious in her sleep. Sleeping with a
high fever did cause strange dreams. Still, Harry didn’t feel anything else but deep concern for
Hermione.

“Wake me if it gets worse, Ginny?” he said slowly.

Ginny smiled again and nodded. “Don’t worry about it, Harry, I’ll take care of her. God forbid,
if it ever gets even worse I’ll surely wake you up.”

Harry thanked Ginny and he halfheartedly returned to Ron’s room. Stephanie was back with a pan
of water, some washcloth, and few vials of potion with Colby the Auror following behind her.

Harry said a soft “Thanks,” and Stephanie simply smiled at him placing the pan beside Hermione’s
night stand.

Hermione was still mouthing the words she had kept saying in her dream. Her face looked
distressed, but she was much calmer this time. The last activity Harry saw inside before he walked
off was Ginny drenching the wash cloth and wiping Hermione’s face with it.

“The accident – confusion – now this,” murmured Ron sadly as he walked with Harry back to his
room.

Looks like she has had a terrible beating lately, Harry thought.

Again.

-o0o-

Arthur and Molly shook everyone awake in the Burrow at seven. Breakfast was ready and they all
had to be leaving very soon. Steve and Stephanie would be escorted to Heathrow for their flight
back to Ireland by Nettleson and Colby. The rest would go the other direction to a place called
Grimmauld. Harry had no idea where Grimmauld was but he thought he was sure Sirius Black was there
– Dumbledore had mentioned it so. He looked forward to meet his godfather after months of not
seeing him.

Harry and Ron had packed up their things already. They were told to bring everything they had
for school because they were not expected to get back to the Burrow before they left for Hogwarts.
With their luggage stowed in the middle of the sitting room, everyone was eating breakfast at the
table except for Ginny and Hermione. Molly had brought their breakfast upstairs where they would
eat them.

“Looks like Hermione has had a tough night,” sighed Molly, as she come back from upstairs. “Poor
girl, her fever’s still not going down.”

“Can she make the trip with us?” asked Arthur, dipping his bread on his double eggs.

“Yes, she insisted that she’d be going despite her state.”

After breakfast, Steve and Stephanie said their goodbyes and profuse thank you’s to everyone,
especially Harry, for helping them out of their predicament.

“Thanks for helping us,” Stephanie told Harry and Ron, smiling. “I hate to go when your best
friend is still sick – I tried everything what I knew with healing, but I don’t know what Hermione
has. Well, I’m still in my third year so I probably still have a lot to learn yet…but here’s a
healing potion that always works with just about everything…” She gave a big bottle of red liquid
to Harry.

“Thanks for taking care of her last night, too, Stephanie,” said Harry, accepting the potion.
“We’ll take it here from now on. You and Steve stay safe, will you?”

“Goodbye for now, Harry,” Steve said. “Willard didn’t err in choosing his friends – we’ll be
forever grateful for what you done for us.” He offered Harry and Ron a handshake and they both took
it.

Stephanie gave Ron a warm hug, then Harry an extra peck of thanks on his cheek. After promising
that they would write to each other about what they knew about Willard, Harry waved Steve and
Stephanie goodbye until the black cab they had called whisked them off.

Harry turned his gaze away from the front yard and saw Hermione already standing at the living
room being helped around by Ginny. Harry didn’t know how long they were standing there and how to
react then – Hermione looked very miserable. Her cheeks were very pale and her bushy hair looked
messy. It seemed that the mere activity of standing up straight required so much effort on her
part, even if Ginny was supporting her.

Harry thought of going over to help Hermione, but the look on her face made him hesitate.
Hermione didn’t look happy at all, and she seemed to have been avoiding gazing towards Harry,
though she smiled when she talked with Arthur and Molly.

Harry felt his heart slightly sink. Even though he’d been prepared for it, Hermione might have
been really angry with him about the hug yesterday – her face showed it. Harry didn’t dare to ask
her how she was feeling. Her fever might get worse when she went livid over him, and he chose to
turn away slowly from her, acting as if he was busy fumbling with his luggage. But deep inside, he
was deeply troubled about it. He was bursting to apologize to her, but he thought there was a time
for that and this was not it.

Their mode of transportation today was the Knight Bus. Soon after it popped carelessly in front
of the Burrow to take them to Grimmauld, everyone boarded the vehicle. Stan Shunpike, the
conductor, shook Harry’s hand enthusiastically and showed them to their seats. Harry had the strong
urge to try out the top deck, not because he was curious of how it would feel riding the Knight Bus
at a height, but because he felt like retreating to a place he would likely be alone. His feeling
of sadness and regret with how he treated Hermione yesterday kept him away from the others.

As the Knight Bus recklessly sped along the Muggle roads, Ron fought dizziness and nausea to get
up the spiral stairs and sit beside Harry, who looked sulky.

“Harry, what’s wrong?” said Ron concernedly beside Harry, who was looking straightly ahead,
resting his chin on his arms on top of the seat in front of him. “I’ve been looking at you all
morning and you seem to moping all the time.”

“How’s Hermione?” Harry simply asked, still looking ahead as the bus swayed madly in motion.

Ron frowned. “She doesn’t look good. I hope it’s not a bug that’s going around. She hadn’t been
talking too much lately – I’m kind of afraid she might get worse if I asked her a lot of questions
so I’m leaving her alone for a while with Ginny.”

“You, too?” Harry said, facing Ron.

“Me, too, what?”

“Well, you know, feeling not talking to her.”

“Yeah, that’s right, until she gets better, at least. She looks real scary with those dark rings
around her eyes…” But Ron looked away very uneasily.

Harry looked straight ahead again, seeing the Knight Bus wiggle its way out of a tight traffic
jam. He felt slightly – just slightly - better knowing that he wasn’t alone feeling alienated
towards Hermione but Ron, too. But he knew that wasn’t good, too. Still, he knew she looked angry
at him. Maybe it was her condition that made her grumpy, he didn’t know, but he’d still try to be
careful about opening up the subject about *the hug*. The damn *hug*.

Arthur emerged at the stairs from below, looking green as he handed Harry a piece of
parchment.

“Read – *ulp* – orally. Quickly…” he said, feeling very nauseous and holding the stainless
steel rail by the arms to keep himself upright. Harry took the parchment, bewildered, but he did
what Arthur told him to do. From what was written on the piece of parchment he read aloud:

*“The headquarters of the Order of the Pheonix may be found at number twelve,* *Grimmauld
Place**,* *London**.”**

Arthur nodded and gestured Harry to give the parchment to Ron, too. Ron read it, not knowing
what it was for also, and handed it back to his dad. Arthur didn’t say anything else and staggered
back to the first level.

“What was that for?” said Ron. Harry just shrugged, seemingly amused at the look of Arthur’s
face. However, Harry had remembered something Hermione had mentioned about an Order that stood
against Voldemort. He pointed this out to Ron, who then made the connection.

“I’ve got the feeling this is the secret Order, all right,” said Ron. “I can’t wait to find out!
I’d join it in a heartbeat if they’ll ask me.”

A few more minutes later they had stopped at a small housing compound with identical looking
houses. Harry and Ron started down the stairs to disembark, but Fred stopped them.

“We’ll have to wait for our turn,” Fred told them. “Moody says we go in the house one by one. I
don’t know what’s the point of it, though.”

Harry looked out the window and saw a single panel door with nothing behind it standing between
two houses. Hermione and Ginny had gone in, followed by Molly, Fred, and George separately a little
later. It was Harry and Ron’s turn and Moody told them to hurry because they might be seen.

Dragging their heavy chests and cages with there owls in it, Harry and Ron went through the door
speedily. Soon they were in a very old and dingy house that looked like it was owned by the darkest
of wizards. Its carpets were filled of molds. At the surface, it looked way less comfortable to
live here. Harry and Ron had the bad feeling they would spend the rest of their holidays tidying up
the place.

Moody, Arthur, and Tonks were the last to get in.

“We’re safe, nobody saw us get in,” said Moody confidently. Then they walked deeper to the
sitting room.

Harry didn’t see Hermione anywhere now and he thought she had gone straight up to the room she
would be sleeping in to get some rest. He wasn’t sure when he would have the courage to see her. He
instantly forgot about that little problem when Sirius emerged from the dining room to meet his
grandson with open arms. He looked clean and well-shaven.

Sirius and Harry smiled broadly and they both hugged. “It’s so nice to see you again, Harry!”
Sirius said jovially. “I’ve been looking forward for this when I heard you’d be coming!” He made a
mess out of Harry’s already messy hair, which was fine for him.

“What’s this place, Sirius?” asked Harry.

“This is my parents’ old house. It’s not much, but I’ve inherited this place and Dumbledore
thinks it’s the safest place for the Order to hold their meetings without being caught by Voldemort
or the Ministry of Magic. I honestly don’t want it, but you know…”

“Yours? Cool! Now that I know it’s yours, it doesn’t look bad after all!” Harry looked around
excitedly, hoping that Sirius might offer him to stay here instead of going back to the Dursleys
every summer.

Sirius smiled. “But you know, it still needs some more work to make it livable. My mother hadn’t
been telling our house elf to clean it for ages…”

“You’re mum is here? She’s still alive?”

“Yeah,” Sirius spoke on an undertone, pointing at a wall covered by velvet curtains, “but as an
annoyingly noisy big portrait, you won’t like her when you see her!”

Just as Sirius said that, Tonks conveniently tripped over a hearth rug and fell over loudly to
start a demonstration. Harry understood what Sirius had meant about noisy big portraits, but he
thought that was the understatement of the century.

“WHAT VILE FREAKS, MUTANTS, AND MUDBLOODS DARE TO TRESPASS THE NOBLE HOUSE OF MY FATHERS…”

“TONKS!” screamed Molly, and she ran over to the portrait and struggled to close the portrait
curtains. It took a while to shut Sirius’ mother up; the ringing noise lingered in Harry’s ears for
ages. Shaking off the sound off them with his fingers, Harry was then led by Sirius towards the
library.

“Sirius, what’s the Order of the Pheonix I’ve read about in a piece of parchment?”

“That, Harry, was Dumbledore’s group which was formed to fight against Voldemort a couple of
decades ago. It’s been reactivated again now that he’s back, and we’re part of it.”

“That’s great,” said Harry, looking impressed. “Then Dumbledore’s the leader?”

Sirius and Harry had gotten in the Library and Harry was surprised to see Albus Dumbledore was
there reading a map of some sort while sitting on a comfortable armchair.

“Dumbledore,” said Sirius. “Harry’s here.”

Dumbledore looked up at Harry looking very serious and said, “Hello, Harry. Nice to see you’re
all right. Sit down, please. We need to talk about your recent behavior at Hogwarts – in
private.”

*Next Chapter coming soon…*

------

**Page 58, Harry Potter and the Order of the Pheonix, J.K. Rowling, Scholastic, Inc.*



9. Duo or Trio
--------------

*A/N: Sorry for the long pause in updates. Lots of things happened the last two weeks I had no
time to write. I still have some other concerns to take care of this week but they’re almost all
cleared up that thinking about the story is becoming easy again. This chapter will be relatively
short, but the subsequent chapters are forming pretty well. I only need to refine the outline so
that I won’t have to rewrite often. The story is still slow because I’m still setting up all the
clues towards the eventful climax. (The climax is still far away…) Please kindly leave a review.
Thanks. :-)*

**Chapter 8: Duo or Trio**

Harry wasn’t prepared to talk to Dumbledore yet. He hadn’t practiced his speech to explain why
he slipped out of Hogwarts without his permission. He felt petrified. He had never been scolded by
Dumbledore since he knew him, and the prospect of being possibly screamed at was terrifying by
itself.

“I’ll leave you two to talk, Dumbledore,” said Sirius evenly. He then looked at Harry, who was
swaying in front of him. “I’m sorry about leaving you like this, Harry, but Dumbledore really
wanted to meet you as soon as you arrived. I’ll be going somewhere today, but I hope we could talk
alone again very soon – I miss you terribly.”

“It’s okay, Sirius,” said Harry softly and they both went into a hug.

Sirius then went out of the Library, leaving Harry alone with Dumbledore. Harry didn’t need to
be told to find a seat; a moldy old chintz armchair – the only chair that hadn’t been in use to
stack old excess books on was waiting for him. It was as if it was placed there for the purpose of
this meeting.

“Time’s a-wasting, Harry,” Dumbledore said calmly, but this didn’t soothe Harry a bit. Harry was
already bracing for a day-long tirade. As soon as Harry had sat down on the armchair in front of
him, Dumbledore took off his half-moon spectacles, placed it at his side table, and looked
straightly on at Harry.

Harry swallowed and choked at his own saliva.

“Do you know why I wanted to talk to you Harry?” he said.

“Yes sir,” Harry said, bowing his head as he sat down on the armchair opposite Dumbledore.
“I’ve, uhm, gone out of Hogwarts without seeing you first – like you asked.”

“That’s right,” Dumbledore said, lifting his head slightly back while he stared determinedly at
Harry. “Why didn’t you, may I ask?”

Harry thought for a moment. He could lie if he wanted to, but Dumbledore was a very difficult
man to lie to. He could literally see what his brain was doing from top to bottom, inside and out.
Harry didn’t want to further infuriate the man who had taken many pains to protect him since he was
born, so he chose to be honest. It was the most logical thing to do at the moment. Not that he had
any choice.

“Professor, honestly, I don’t know. But I was so afraid then that you wouldn’t want me to get
out for Christmas when my best friends could get home. I was so afraid to be left alone with no one
to talk to for three full weeks. It would drive me crazy!”

“And what made you think I wouldn’t permit you at all?”

Harry paused for a moment. He took mild surprise at Dumbledore’s question.

“Well, Professor,” Harry then said, “I guess with Lord Voldemort now out there in the open and
with three murders happening at the same time last week, I was certain you’d think it would be too
dangerous for me to get away of Hogwarts’ protection. I didn’t want to have no choice left if you
personally told me I’m forbidden to get out – but I did try to go to you for days - that’s the
truth - and aside from being too scared about it, a lot of bad things happened that I kind of
forgot about it for days. The last night before leaving Hogwarts I was already on the way to your
office but Angelina Johnson caught me and kept us practicing Quidditch until midnight. The next
morning you weren’t around already…sir.”

Dumbledore gazed at Harry for a moment after hearing his explanation. His reasons had some
validity to it, but it didn’t take away the fact that Harry had gone without his clearance by
ignoring him way back at Hogwarts.

“But you clearly knew the risks if you disregarded my simple instructions, or you being out
there with Lord Voldemort roaming freely like you said.”

“Yes, sir. I thought I could still get away if he got to me…”

“Now that was totally reckless of you to think that, Harry. You were totally aware of the
dangers and you chose to risk your life to have some outdoor fun. I expected more of you.”

“I didn’t know what I was thinking, sir.” Harry’s gaze sank lower towards the floor.

“I could appreciate your genuine desire to talk to me and I do understand the conditions
surrounding your failure to do so, like the unscheduled Quidditch practice. *But* you could
have just *told* Professor McGonagall that you had no chance to see me. I instructed her to
let you off no matter what happened as long as you knew all I was asking for you to do was to spend
your vacation here, at Grimmauld place where you’re perfectly safe. Like you have experienced
lately, the Burrow or the Grangers’ house aren’t at all very secure to spend your vacation at,
though I had told Arthur to take you in for a night before he’d bring you to Grimmauld – that was a
risk we had to take due to the circumstances. Sirius volunteered for the job to pick you up from
King Cross to Grimmauld but I didn’t want to risk him getting captured. So you didn’t have to lie
to McGonagall at all…”

Harry looked up at Dumbledore and said, “Sir, you mean you didn’t think of forbidding me at
all?”

“That’s correct, Harry. If you won’t even see me, how would you know what I wanted to ask you?
This should not have been a problem at all.”

Harry made a face because he absolutely had no reason to feel any anxious back at Hogwarts if he
just walked to Dumbledore and talked to him. Now, he ran the risk of being punished, or worse,
expelled.

“As you have heard in my discussion with Cornelius Fudge at my office a few nights ago,”
Dumbledore continued, “he would send some wizards from the Ministry to police Hogwarts even at
Christmas. The wizards he may choose to send could be Death Eaters who had infiltrated the
Ministry. With no one left at Hogwarts besides Mr. Filch – yes, everybody else had gone home for
the holidays - leaving you there alone was as dangerous as putting you outdoors…besides, since it’s
always been the plan that I’d stay out of Hogwarts for the whole holidays, I don’t have the heart
to leave you alone there with no one to talk to besides the mice.”

“Sir, we didn’t listen in to your conversation,” Harry began to defend himself at once. “We
never…”

“Don’t you start lying now, Harry,” said Dumbledore speedily and sternly.

“Yes, sir…” he said immediately, and sunk his gaze deeper toward the floor again.

“Like I said before, I do not tolerate lies being told to me, do you understand? It’s what Ron
did that got him into trouble with detention…”

“Yes, sir…”

“Very good. You, being out of Hogwarts now, isn’t the issue at this time. That’s always been the
plan nevertheless. I’m not blowing your faults out of proportion, Harry, but I must make you
understand that I won’t permit you to get away with lying without paying for it. It would make a
bad precedent for you – you’d think everything will be all right even if you misbehaved because we
would just look the other way. I refuse to accept that kind of attitude, do you understand?”

Harry nodded.

“You need to re-learn how to listen to your mentors and elders like us and Professor McGonagall.
Yes, even Professor Snape. We will always have reasons to keep you away from things that you
immediately yearn for, but we won’t prevent you from doing what you want unless it’s totally
necessary and we will always have valid reasons to do that. You must learn again how to trust us.
Until you’re an adult you’ll still have to subject yourself to the wisdom of those who’re
responsible for your well-being. Now you know more clearly why I’m angry at you, don’t you?”

“Because I lied, and because I tried to get away from you, sir,” said Harry bluntly.

“That’s right. It was a very dangerous thing for you to do – irresponsible, too. I’m terribly
disappointed with you, Harry. This is a valid ground for your expulsion, but I won’t expel you for
this. There you go - you escaped expulsion again. Don’t feel you’d always get away with it. I‘m not
sure how long I could bend the rules for you, but please don’t make me expel you even if it meant
risking your death from Lord Voldemort’s hands. Do I make myself clear?”

“Yes, sir.”

Dumbledore leaned back and put back his spectacles on his face and read a piece of parchment.
“Professor McGonagall has already planned for your detention when you get back at Hogwarts. And no,
it won’t be the same detention I gave to Mr. Weasley.”

Harry groaned loudly.

“This will make you understand how serious your recent offense was. Now do I have your true word
that you won’t do this again? Ever?” His blue eyes gazed back flamingly at Harry again.

Harry looked at Dumbledore slowly, and he accepted his challenge sincerely. The look in his eyes
told him he was not bluffing, but this was loads better than having expelled. Harry nodded and
said, “Yes, sir, you can count on me this time.”

Dumbledore slightly smiled. “Excellent. Double detention after New Year’s - I hope you won’t
break your back with it. But I can’t deny you’ve got great finesse in figuring out a way to get
yourself out of the dark from what’s really happening around you.”

Harry stared. “What do you mean, sir?”

Dumbledore chuckled. “Mr. Weasley’s not so discrete in planting bugs, if you hadn’t known about
it. He looked scared in leaving that severed ear he became very careless. I gave it back to him the
next day, didn’t he tell you?”

Harry swallowed hard once more. Ron never mentioned it to him at all because he might have been
too ashamed to admit it. So Dumbledore really knew they were eavesdropping, Harry thought.

Dumbledore laughed. “However, the ear thing – whatever you call it – is an ingenious device. You
two have the markings of being good Aurors someday. Keeping yourselves in the know as much as
possible is always a wise move. However, it would also be tactful not to intrude upon other
people’s privacy, the same.”

Harry nodded embarrassedly.

“But let’s get that out of the way. Since I know that you are fully aware of Cornelius Fudge’s
plans for our next return at Hogwarts, I want to you, Ron, and Hermione to be extra vigilant from
now on. Very extra vigilant. I do not know who’s behind this new plot to place Death Eaters posing
as Ministry Wizards at Hogwarts and what their plans are, but I feel that it’s something sinister
as the last time.”

“Can’t you do anything at all to stop Minister Fudge, Professor?” asked Harry. He didn’t want to
believe Dumbledore was powerless to object to anything that posed any danger to his students.

“Sorry to say I can’t in this case.”

Dumbledore handed Harry the piece of parchment he was reading, and it looked like an official
letter from the Ministry of Magic.

“I just got this memorandum,” he said, “from the Ministry informing me of the sweeping changes
they’ll be enforcing when the students would return to Hogwarts. You don’t have to read through the
gobble-de-gook, but let me summarize it for you in the simplest of terms.

“It says there should be no group of students more than two walking alongside each other at a
time, the Headmaster has been stripped of authority to object to Ministry operations enforced at
Hogwarts, curfew hours now are at nine in the evening until six the next morning, and no
unauthorized groups will be allowed to form for any purpose unless authorized by the Ministry.
Violation equals arbitrary suspension. Next, it’ll be expulsion from Hogwarts. That, I expect, is
just the first of many new radical rules Fudge wants to introduce.”

Harry examined the parchment more closely and noticed it was signed by seven out of twelve of
the school governors. “Looks like they were almost divided in approving this,” Harry observed.

“Yes, because Lucius Malfoy is said to have been very influential and was actively lobbying for
it.”

“But he’s a Death Eater, professor!” exclaimed Harry. “He might be the one crafting this to make
the conditions right for Voldemort to…” Harry thought hard. “No, it couldn’t be…”

“I know what you’re thinking, Harry,” said Dumbledore, feeling satisfied with Harry’s intuition.
“Yes, it’s possible that they may be planning to kidnap you, but I have no concrete proof to
conclude that that’s what they’re planning as of now. There might be other devious things that they
have thought of about right now - something at a grand scale. But I strongly suspect Lord Voldemort
was not at all too happy that you’ve escaped the second time and he’s plotting another way to get
back at you again. You were supposed to have joined him or be killed like you told us. He’ll do it
again, I promise you.”

“But see here, professor,” Harry said, “it would be too arrogant for me to think they’re doing
everything - all of these just to get me. He must have gotten tired of running after me. There must
be other reasons why Lucius is trying hard to put Death Eaters at Hogwarts. How about the
destruction of Hogwarts? That’s not at all farfetched, isn’t it?”

Dumbledore nodded, but he didn’t readily agree to that wholeheartedly, though it was entirely
possible Voldemort could also be exerting all effort to cause no less than the destruction of
Hogwarts. There was something else he knew that he was not prepared to tell Harry yet, and he
absolutely believed Voldemort was really out to get Harry and then kill him. He was actively
manipulating the affairs of the Ministry of Magic through Lucius for his ends.

“As a whole, yes, he might be planning to destroy all those who oppose him,” Dumbledore
carefully said, stroking his beard, “but we cannot rule out the fact that he’s doing this for
personal vendetta. Of course, you’re right that it does seem arrogant to think that all the fuss on
their part to plan something as elaborate as this was meant for you alone, but thinking otherwise
begets complacency. I’m not telling all of this to make you paranoid, but all I ask of you is to be
careful and be aware of what’s happening around you. If you do think something is afoot, don’t ever
hesitate to come to me for advice. At the same time, I will be asking Ron and Hermione to keep a
close eye on you. You could be walking into trouble in the coming weeks…”

Harry, however, didn’t like Dumbledore’s last idea at all. He didn’t want to make Ron and
Hermione as his bodyguards to worry about him. He would be fine by himself, though he wouldn’t
neglect being extra vigilant like Dumbledore had said, of course.

Dumbledore meant well, and he had always shown very keen sense of what’s been going around him.
But not to this extent…*please*, Ron and Hermione his bodyguards? *No, thanks*. He felt
he’d be the one protecting them now that he knew Voldemort was also out to hurt them.

“I think I’d rather that we’ll protect each other, not just me, professor…”

Dumbledore agreed. “That’s good enough, Harry. I see you really care about your friends – that’s
what I really like about you. Don’t give too much worry about the petty differences that come your
way. The important thing is you are there for them the same as they are there for you. Search for
your feelings, Harry. I trust you’ve fully learned how your bond that protected you from the
Oarling. It was a very powerful creature. I could not see how the same protection can’t be used
against Lord Voldemort, but just don’t rely on it solely. It only comes at the right time with the
right conditions and the right people. Use your skills to the fullest, and together you can be a
powerful force to reckon with. Do you have anything that’s bothering you at all nowadays?”

Harry at first wanted to share to Dumbledore what he felt about Hermione and how it would affect
that important bond, but he decided against it. He knew what to do. Amid the air of danger around
him caused by the endless actions of Lord Voldemort, he was still allowed to worry about his own
personal problems - even more “trivial” ones like his inner desires for a best friend.

He needn’t have to worry yet about his security in Hogwarts because that was still far off the
calendar. He had to resolve his most recent troubles soon to be able to function well whatever
dangers were thrown at him later. He made a point to talk to Ron today to make everything clear
with him because Harry sensed that his infatuation with Hermione had been bothering his friend all
along. It was probably a good time to find out if Ron was jealous of him.

“None at all, Professor,” Harry lied without being noticed by Dumbledore. “Thanks for the
warning, and I won’t ignore your calls from now on.”

“That’s the man,” said Dumbledore with deep satisfaction. “You can go now. I believe you have
other important things to take care of.”

Harry stood slowly up and went for the door but before he opened it, he paused and looked back
at Dumbledore. “Professor Dumbledore,” he said a little hesitantly with a tiny smile, “I want to
thank you for not forgetting about Hermione last night.”

“You’re welcome,” Dumbledore replied, smiling back. “I know how special she is to you.”

-o0o-

Harry and Ron didn’t have much to do during their first day at Grimmauld except clean up the
rooms from household pests that strived from years of neglect of Number Twelve. It wasn’t until Ron
had an allergic reaction to the dust around the rooms that Molly had called it a day of cleaning
very early. She didn’t know it was Fred and George’s way of escaping boring work by trying out
their new Sneezing Sandcubes at their brother. The only downside to it was that the antidote had
not been invented by the twins yet and Ron kept sneezing non-stop well before dinner.

Harry, on the other hand, had been preoccupied all day with his thoughts about making the huge
mistake of changing the way he looked at Hermione. It was one thing that he worried more than his
impending detention and of Death Eaters roaming around at Hogwarts. After much difficult thought he
decided, quite reluctantly, the he should abandon his desires for Hermione and to try to return
things to how it was.

He loved Hermione, there was no doubt about that, but she probably loved him back as a real
friend. Treating her as something more than a friend seemed more disadvantageous for a lot of
reasons than the opposite, so he thought it was best for the trio to take his desires for her off
his chest. He felt a little better now – just a little - feeling that he could just come to her
anytime without feeling awkward anymore and worry about rejection. However, he did feel a bit of
regret for it. His feelings for her had already grown significantly in a short span of time and he
had to let it go. They could have had a nice little relationship. Who knows?

Hermione had not shown herself to everyone the whole day. According to Ginny, Hermione was still
too sick and frail to even sit upright on her bed to eat her meals. Molly feared it was some kind
of a bad virus that had infected Hermione that she had forbidden anyone from getting near her
except Ginny. However, Ginny was still healthy and had no signs of getting the bug, and Ron had
always slipped in to stand by Hermione.

Harry, meanwhile, had finally found the courage at last to talk to Ron and tell him about his
“former” feelings with Hermione. Like Harry had expected, Ron didn’t take it all very lightly.

“I knew it! There was something going between you and Hermione,” he said hotly in their room,
pacing around with no real direction. Harry was sitting at his bed beside Ron’s.

“Ron, look I’m sorry if I couldn’t help it then, I was so confused,” explained Harry. “I
couldn’t tell you at all because you might get angry.”

“Right you are, I’m angry,” Ron said, staring Harry down at his face. “You’re the one who’s
apparently been causing our breakup. I saw it early on. Hermione’s changed. She’s not like she was
like I knew her. She’s been distancing herself from us lately…”

“Breakup?” Harry didn’t believe there was such a thing as a breakup. Hermione, as a matter of
fact, was still very close to them and she had always been at their side as much as possible. Well,
except until last night – she did seem to look angry lately.

“I never realized…”

“Of course, you didn’t,” interrupted Ron, “you were too busy worrying when you could get to kiss
her while I was figuring out what was wrong!”

“Ron, I’m sorry – really, I am. But I think you’re wrong about the breakup thing – she can’t be
distancing herself from us. I’ve been - because I was afraid she might have gotten angry at me for
hugging her last night. I almost kissed her, too, if I hadn’t controlled myself, you know.”

Ron looked aghast at Harry’s revelation. “I didn’t know that.”

“You were in the kitchen. Just this morning she looked as if she didn’t want to look at me. I
didn’t feel very good at all! I knew I made her mad. This isn’t doing us any good, so I thought of
giving it up. Start all over. I think you two are just right for each other…”

“Look, Harry, don’t ever think I also have a silly desire for Hermione, okay? Because I don’t…”
Ron said, holding out his palms in front of Harry. “I really don’t. Okay?”

Harry regretted he even mentioned that with his desperation to soothe Ron, but he found Ron’s
statement hard to believe. “Then why were you so angry with Krum of having a go with her last
year?” he asked gently.

“Don’t you say his name!” Ron snapped, but then breathed shortly. “But now that you have, I’ll
tell you why! He was threatening to take Hermione away from us. Didn’t you see that at all last
year? I didn’t want that to happen. We’re best friends and he just came out of nowhere and he had
all the nerve to bud in to take away what’s so important to us.” Ron breathed deeply again as he
placed his hands on his hips, staring at the ceiling. Hermione’s a huge part of us, Harry, and if
she goes, things will never be the same. I don’t know why I’m so scared of it…”

“Look, Ron, sooner or later one of us will go separate ways and get married somewhere. It’s
inevitable.”

Ron paused and allowed himself to calm down. “I know. But for now, I’m not ready for that yet,
Harry. Someday, yes, but the trio – it’s all I have at the moment. Please understand what I’m
trying to say here. I’m poorer than a church mouse, but I feel like the richest person in the
entire world because of the simple fact I have you and Hermione.” Ron sniffed and went for the
door, slouching. “I want to be alone right now. See you later.”

“Ron, sorry about everything, okay?” said Harry. Ron just waved it off with a hand.

Harry sighed and banged his back against his mattress. Ron was right, he thought. He was being
so selfish to want Hermione as a girlfriend that he forgot how important the special bond of the
trio was for them. If he took Hermione away for himself, then Ron will most likely suffer because
he’d be marginalized in some way. The funny thing for Harry at the moment was he had always assumed
Hermione would readily go steady with him (if he did everything right). He had not even opened up
his feelings with her and he was already sure what the outcome would be.

Ron sometimes had not been acting like a real friend to Hermione as far as Harry could remember,
but he was still someone he and she could count on and vice versa. Ron may not want to admit it,
but he cherished Hermione’s friendship. It was refreshing to know from Ron that he had no real
romantic desire with her. The true reason for his refusal for Hermione of having any romantic
relationship with others (Viktor Krum included) was actually for the integrity of the trio, which
Harry thought was very decent of Ron.

Harry remembered to take out Hermione’s picture from his trunk to look at it again. He had to
make up his mind now. She still looked very cute to him, making his heart pound again. But finally
he sighed and said, “Ron’s right, you’re my best friend, I shouldn’t have wanted you in the first
place…”

In the displeasure he felt that followed, Harry never understood the surprised look on
Hermione’s face was actually a form of disappointment, not of real shock like he had thought.

-o0o-

Harry had been so lost in thought lying down on his bed that he wasn’t aware he’d been doing it
for three hours. Ron was already asleep, having calmed down from his recent rant. They had not
talked again about what they discussed at all tonight, but Harry knew Ron was still in speaking
terms with him when he had asked Harry to tell his mum to excuse him from housekeeping chose the
next day because he was still sneezing. The truth was Ron’s nasal passages had never felt so clear
in his whole life.

Moments later he heard Hermione whimper in her room across the hall. This time Harry didn’t
stand at once upon hearing it because he knew she was just having another bad dream like the other
night. The frequency of Hermione’s bad dreams, including his with Russelpunk, made Harry very
uncomfortable again, however. Harry tried to remember when was the last time Hermione had bad
dreams that preceded something terrible happening. It was their encounter with the Oarling. He
thought their dreams could have some of connection again - she could have seen Russelpunk being
murdered, he was not sure, but he had to ask her about it. He felt he needed to know.

Another scream came.

Another bad dream.

Harry finally stood up and went over to Hermione to see how she was. He now had managed to walk
in her room, at least without having to fight with himself. Ginny was again awake and was stroking
Hermione’s hair to make her quiet, and she looked like she was missing a lot of sleep because of
her bloating eye bags.

“At last, it’s you, Harry,” said Ginny sleepily.

“Huh?”

“Hermione’s been waiting for you to come in all day.”

“She was?” Harry walked deeper in the room and sat beside Hermione’s feet. He squeezed
Hermione’s hand and felt she was still burning with no end.

“Ron was here several times today, but all she kept hoping for was *you*.”

Harry groaned. If he was still desiring for her he would have leapt in ecstasy upon hearing
that, but that wasn’t the case now. He simply felt very sorry for not acting like a real friend to
Hermione.

“I kind of wanted to, but I thought she was mad at me about something since morning.”

Ginny strangely chose to avoid answering Harry’s last statement. “It’ll be nice if we took turns
looking after her – I’m so t-t-t-tired,” she yawned. “Would you?”

Harry nodded, took a chair from beside the wall, and sat beside Hermione’s bed. Ginny looked
visibly relieved and didn’t wait a second too long to dive on to her bed to go to sleep. “Wake me
if her fever gets worse,” she said before cozying up. She fell asleep in an instant.

Harry didn’t feel real sleepy anyway and glanced to Hermione to watch her. She looked reddish –
he was afraid the raging fever could have been very agonizing for her at the moment. He reached for
her hair and stroked it, knowing that she won’t feel anything, and fixed it in place so that no
strand had covered her face. When he saw her face this near ever since he made that “illegal” hug,
he felt real bad for not being around for a best friend who was very sick and who wanted to see him
all day. He had let her down in her time of need because of his silly infatuation. He wondered how
she would take it when she woke up and saw him sitting at the chair.

More silly thoughts came buzzing around inside Harry’s mind again.

*She wanted to see me all day so she could slap me!*

*Yeah. Yeah, I guess that could be the reason – but I’ll take it. If it turns out to be a
punch, good, I’ll absorb everything. She could hurt me all she wanted - I deserved it.*

Hermione stirred and Harry sat upright, expecting her to open her eyes. But she didn’t. She just
kept on sleeping. Harry heaved a sigh deeply and sat back on his chair. Then he heard it again.

“*Harry – Harry, please!* *Don’t mind what I say…”*

Harry still had no idea what Hermione kept rattling on about in her sleep. He, however, soon
remembered that it was slightly related to what she had cried to him back at Hogwarts after
ignoring her about going to Dumbledore regarding the holidays.

Only that it was the opposite.

For Harry, she could have just been feeling guilty of getting over-sensitive about the issue and
probably just wanted to tell him she’d support him for his every decision from now on. However that
wasn’t like Hermione to give herself up that easily to him. She always had been the conscience of
the trio, telling him and Ron how to think straight when they were being so stupid. Now,
*that* was the Hermione that Harry knew.

“Don’t mind that, Harry – like she says,” said Ginny behind her back after she woke up upon
hearing Hermione talk. “She’s been saying the same words all day over and over…” She then went back
snoring.

There was something about it, though, that Harry couldn’t help but think it something to be
concerned about.

-o0o-

“Harry…”

Harry sprang awake on his chair. It was already sunup. He’d fallen asleep when he was supposed
to watch over Hermione and wake Ginny if her fever got worse. He shook his head to get even more
awake and rubbed his eyes open and looked around sleepily, fighting the bright sunlight that was
hitting his face.

When he reopened his eyes, he saw Hermione was already sitting on her bed in front of him.

“Hermione, you don’t have to get up – I could bring you whatever you need…” he began.

“How long have you been sitting there, Harry?” she said with a smile drawn on her face that was
unmistakably a show of appreciation.

“Since about,” Harry looked at his broken watch, “ten, I guess.” Harry yawned deeply but covered
his mouth immediately. “Sorry, I hope you didn’t smell that…”

Hermione laughed. “Where have you been? I’ve hoping to meet you again since yesterday but you
never came, you bastard!” Hermione said playfully.

“Sorry – I’ve been around the…hang on! *You’re up*!”

“Oh, so you noticed,” Hermione quipped. She laughed heartily again. Harry bent over to her and
placed a palm on her forehead. It didn’t feel hot at all anymore.

“Wow, your fever seems to be gone!” he said, looking happy. “That was quick…”

“Strange, but great, isn’t it?” she said, looking surprised about it herself, feeling her own
forehead and neck. “It just came in and went off so fast. I feel real healthy already. But the last
two nights – it was murder!”

Harry snatched Stephanie Wraskon’s red potion off Hermione head table. “I guess this works all
right after all. I gotta thank Stephanie…” Harry didn’t see the look on Hermione’s face after he
said that.

Hermione placed a hand on Harry’s knee, making him jump slightly and almost lose hold of the
bottle of potion.

“Harry, if you’ve been here since last night, I really thank you for standing by and looking
after me. That’s so sweet of you.”

“Oh, yeah, y-you’re welcome,” stammered Harry, returning the bottle to the table.

“But, have I been snoring while I was asleep?” Hermione asked anxiously. She seemed to be more
concerned about the thought of snoring while she was asleep than being at the brink of possible
death because of her scorching fever. “My Mum says I always snore like pig – I hope she’s just
kidding!”

Harry chuckled when she saw Hermione’s worried face. It was good to see Hermione being herself
again. “Of course not.” He hesitated. “But you were talking in your sleep, saying the same words
two nights in a row.”

Hermione just stared at him, looking puzzled.

“What were you dreaming about, anyway, Hermione?” Harry said, hiding the seriousness of his
question by brightening the sound of his voice.

She rummaged around in her mind and shook her head. “Nothing. Why, what did I say?”

“You said I shouldn’t listen to you about something.” Harry mocked a fetal position and repeated
the very words she said in her sleep, putting up a high voice. *Harry, Harry – please don’t
listen…please don’t listen…*

Hermione pinched a huge chunk of on Harry’s chest, acting angry but looking embarrassed, and
making him howl in pain. Still, she didn’t remember dreaming about anything.

“I might have been just delirious…”

“Well, maybe…” said Harry as he sat upright. He felt he would never know what Hermione had
dreamed of, which was really a shame, even though he had tried to replant the very same words in
her mind in the hope of making her remember. This was a much different case than her other
nightmares earlier in the term before the Oarling came for her. She had remembered each detail
clearly then and had even talked about it. This time she had no recollection of anything. Harry
felt very uneasy about it, though a part of him wanted to believe it was nothing get alarmed
about.

Ginny groaned under her pillow when she was woken up by Harry and Hermione’s loud conversation.
She looked around blearily and saw Hermione glance back at her with a grin and sitting up on her
bed. She plopped back her head on her pillow, then sat upright and stared at her.

“Good gracious – *you’re up*!” she said in disbelief. She crossed over to Hermione’s bed
and instinctively felt for her forehead with the back of her hand. “It’s gone – your fever’s
gone!”

“Of course,” giggled Hermione, looking amused at both Harry and Ginny’s identical reaction upon
seeing her she was all right. “I don’t have to be sick the rest of my life, you know…”

“I know,” said Ginny, kneeling on both of her knees atop Hermione’s bed looking happy. “I was
expecting you’d still be burning hot until at least tomorrow…but this is great!”

“What’s for breakfast?” Hermione said, rubbing her stomach.

“I’ll see if Mum’s ready with it,” Ginny said as she sprang off the bed and ran out the door.
Apparently she could not wait to spread the good news Hermione had already recovered.

This left Harry and Hermione alone in the room. They both looked at each other awkwardly,
exchanging nervous laughs. This could have been the perfect time for Harry to confess about his
budding desire for her or to apologize about it, but he decided against it. It would be pointless,
if not dangerous, to stress her further – she just came out of a bad bout of flu. Besides, he could
have been the only one who was fighting with such feelings.

*No, leave it,* Harry told himself silently.

He had been deciding if he’d go for it or not that he didn’t notice Hermione had been watching
him from across her bed for a long time. When he finally raised his eyes to Hermione’s, he observed
that she was looking at him with unmistakable fondness – and her hand looked like it was reaching
for his – hair?

“Hermione, what do you think you’re doing?” he said suspiciously.

Hermione snapped back to her senses, looked around at everything other than Harry, and retreated
her outstretched hand behind her back. She fumbled desperately for words to answer him.

“Nice room, isn’t it?” was the only thing she managed to collect. “You could feel the air around
it, too, don’t you?” she added, waving her hand around, but she visibly looked furious with
herself.

Harry cleared his throat. “I, uh, think I have to go – I guess you need to, uh, change!” He
didn’t wait for Hermione’s reply and hustled towards the door. He closed the door behind him very
quickly and leaned back on it, and blew a deep breath – he felt as if he had just sprinted for
miles. He couldn’t believe what he had just seen. She hadn’t done that to him before. Not ever.

*Did I really see that for real? What did that mean?*

*- You perfectly know what that meant, dung brain!*

*AH!*

Feeling excited, he pressed his ears against the door hoping to hear what Hermione was doing
back inside; he heard her growl with herself, and then she finally went into a fit of giggles. He
didn’t know it, but he had just pulled off the widest of smiles he has had for ages and forgetting
about his most recent resolution.

-o0o-

*Next Chapter coming next week…*



10. Course of Action
--------------------

*I said “next chapter coming next week”, right? Hehe. Well, here you have it, the continuation
of the story! It took while for me to update because I was so busy taking care of things during the
last week.*

*Thanks for waiting and reading this story, and please do leave a review after reading. I’ll
be smiling like a madman when you do.*

**Chapter 9: Course of Action**

Even though Harry was back into speaking terms with Hermione without ever being afraid of it, he
was so flushed with what happened while he was inside Hermione’s room that he didn’t want to meet
her yet for the rest of the morning. Harry just needed a little bit more time to think. He spent a
lot of time sitting at the single desk in the room he shared with Ron, staring out the open window.
His cheeks eventually hurt – he’d been smiling the whole morning while he was lost in his thoughts
without even noticing it.

Hermione had tried to stroke his hair while he was looking away – it would seem normal for his
best friend to do such a thing, but the look on Hermione’s face gave it a whole lot different
meaning. Harry thought he wasn’t the only one who was struggling with his feelings – Hermione might
have some feelings for him, too, and was also afraid to open up the subject like him. The only
problem was, he could have just misinterpreted Hermione’s actions, he thought. There was still a
danger in infuriating her by assuming such a conclusion prematurely – if he had to know, he’d ask
her about it and do it cautiously.

What to do about Ron? They both had talked about his budding desire with Hermione, and Ron
didn’t take it very well. Harry knew by pursuing his feelings with Hermione he might anger his
other best friend, and worse it might change their relationship negatively. Harry couldn’t imagine
life without Ron. He was his first ever best friend in his life. He had gotten a glimpse last year
of what it was like to have Ron as his enemy, and Harry swore it wasn’t a very pleasant feeling
when he and his best friend were engaged in a cold war.

*- Look, Harry, he’ll understand eventually. He’s just over-reacting. He’ll come to accept you
were born for Hermione sooner or later…*

“Yeah, I think that’s right,” Harry muttered under his breath.

*- Just do everything nicely and carefully and you’ll be fine…*

“Uh-huh.”

Harry shrugged and looked at his watch. It was already a few minutes past eleven in the morning
and soon it’ll be lunchtime. He wondered where Ron was at the moment – he had not gone up to their
room since dawn. Sighing, he stood up to get out of the room for the first time today. He’d meet up
with Ron soon enough, he thought, since Grimmauld wasn’t such a big place for someone to get lost
in.

As he walked out the corridor he saw the girls’ room door open. He wanted to know if Hermione
was inside and he knocked on the door twice.

“Hermione, are you in there?” he asked as softly as he could, but enough to be heard.

“She took a walk in the garden, Harry,” said Ginny’s voice.

“Oh, thanks!” Harry replied, and walked down on the stairs. When he landed on the first floor,
he saw Remus Lupin, who was sitting on the couch near the fireplace and reading the day’s issue of
the Daily Prophet. The last time Harry had seen Lupin was during the end of his third year at
Hogwarts. There was no sign of everyone else though he heard some sounds of activity near the
dining room.

“Professor Lupin!” Harry called his former teacher happily.

Lupin snapped his head at Harry, broke into a wide smile, and stood up to greet Harry. “Good to
see you again, Harry,” he said, shaking Harry’s hand. “I was told you were here already since
yesterday and I was so eager to see you after more than a year.”

“Same here, Professor,” replied Harry. “How’s life after – you know – Snape let slip you were a
werewolf…”

Lupin mocked a growl. “Dreadful! Been jobless ever since. But we still get to meet once in a
while for this little group we’re having…”

“The Order of the Pheonix…”

“That’s right,” Lupin said, smiling. “Has Sirius told you about it yet?”

“I wish – but we didn’t get to get together longer after my conversation with Dumbledore.
Where’s Sirius, anyway?”

“He’s not around - Dumbledore asked him to do something somewhere other than Grimmauld. Other
than that he’s usually in the attic if you don’t see him around here – that’s his usual place he
coops up in with Buckbeak when he wants to be alone. Sometimes I worry about the man.”

“Why? He looked okay yesterday,” said Harry concernedly.

“I’m not sure,” said Lupin tentatively. “I think it’ll be good if you could talk to him when he
comes back. I want to know what’s going on his mind, too, and I guess you’re the only one who could
let him talk about it. But Sirius is a good man – he’s very hospitable with everyone in his house.
He just hadn’t been out of here for so long. Dumbledore’s so strict about it ever since. He doesn’t
want him to get caught and hurt by the Death Eaters, but today he had his first outdoor assignment.
”

Harry nodded. He knew how Sirius felt – being imprisoned for thirteen years and on the run for a
couple more, it would really feel very lonely being restricted to his freedom. Sirius was a very
capable wizard who could defend himself he needed to, but Harry still thought he could still be
vulnerable when he was outdoors. He suddenly felt worried for Sirius now that he was out. But was
he safe in this old house, too? Harry asked the question with Lupin.

“Grimmauld is unplottable, Harry,” answered Lupin confidently. “It has been subjected to a
special kind of Fidelius Charm – Dumbledore is the Secret Keeper. We’re all safe here from
Voldemort. That’s why he wanted you here as soon as you stepped out of Hogwarts along with the
Weasleys. Fortunately no one among you got hurt at the Burrow that night – Dumbledore was upset
about the attack and vowed not to take your safety for granted anymore.”

“Any news about the attacks last night in the Prophet?”

Lupin’s face looked grim. “Yes, but not the way we want it,” he said, shrugging, taking the
paper off the coffee table, and giving it to Harry. “Here, you might want to read it…”

**“Death Eater Attacks a Hoax”**

As soon as Harry read the Headline, he didn’t want to read it further like other issues of the
Prophet before this and threw the paper on the couch. He knew where this report was going.

“I guess not…the feeling’s mutual,” Lupin said, shaking his head and laughing softly.

“Fudge’s really controlling everything, doesn’t he?” said Harry furiously. “Even the press. He’s
getting more dictatorial! After last night, were there other attacks, too?”

Lupin shook his head. “Not a thing – the Death Eaters seem to prefer striking at night. We’re
still yet to see them acting during the daytime, but I do believe we won’t be waiting for long.
We’re expecting more attacks coming in the days ahead…”

“There you are, Harry,” said Mrs. Weasley as she got out of the kitchen holding a large tray of
freshly baked bread and placing it on the table. The scent was so good that Harry’s stomach growled
in anticipation for lunch. “Could you help me call for the others? We must be quiet, though,
because you know…” She placed a finger on her lips and pointed at the covered portrait of Mrs.
Black; the velvet drapes seemed to be breathing. Harry nodded and slowly went for the back door
where he believed the garden would be located. The first person he ever thought to look for was
Hermione. Lupin went up the stairs to call on anyone who were in the rooms.

Harry’s jaw dropped when he opened the back door. Grimmauld’s garden looked vast and well kept
like it was constantly attended by a skilled gardener. There were well trimmed hedges, mowed lawns,
and walkways void of fallen leaves from the couple dozen tall trees that stood within its
perimeter. The odd thing was that all the plants weren’t covered of snow (it was still winter) – it
looked just like spring. Harry felt he could stay here all afternoon just admiring the landscape.
He felt warm, so he took off his thick clothes and left them inside the house.

He walked deeper through the walkway and ended up near the fountain and looked around for
Hermione, but there was no sign of her. He looked up, and he noticed an owl flying around in
circles just above the tree canopy, clutching an envelope. Harry observed it for a little longer,
and it was the first time he had ever seen an owl that seemed to be at a loss finding the letter’s
recipient. That was strange, Harry thought.

He waved at the owl in order to notice him (the letter could be for him) – the owl did, but it
shook its head and kept on flying in circles. If the letter was for him, the owl should have given
it to him already.

He then saw movement at the opposite side of the fountain – it was Ron and Hermione walking side
by side talking. Harry smiled at first when he saw them together, but then felt an odd sense of
sadness coming from within him. He didn’t understand why, but it bothered him slightly that Ron had
already spent more time with Hermione than him today. He sighed and approached them less
spiritedly.

“Hi, Harry,” said Hermione happily as she sat down on a bench. “We’ve been waiting for you for
ages to come down from your room – is anything wrong?” Ron, on the other hand, looked slightly
stone faced though he managed a slight smile for Harry.

Harry quickly shook his head. “Oh, no – I was just thinking,” he replied, snatching a glance at
Ron. “I came to tell you both that lunch’s ready. By the way, have you seen that owl flying around
as if it was looking for someone to deliver its letter to?” When Harry looked up; the owl was still
flying above them in circles.

Hermione and Ron both looked up the sky, too.

“It’s been doing that almost all morning – strange,” said Hermione. “Poor owl, it must be tired
and hungry.”

However, Ron snorted. Harry and Hermione both looked at him, baffled.

“What’s so funny, Ron?” asked Hermione.

“I know why he can’t see us,” replied Ron, still looking up to the owl. “Grimmauld’s unplottable
and Dumbledore could have only allowed mail delivery to anyone from outside authorized to do so -
like our parents. I know it’s not for me – my whole family’s here and I don’t know anyone
else.”

“It could be mine!” exclaimed Hermione worriedly. “What if it could be from Mum and Dad?”

Ron looked at her, his face frowning. “Didn’t you hear what I just said, Hermione? If it’s from
your parents, then you could have gotten it already. Who else do you know?”

Hermione, however, looked away from Ron. Harry knew who she was thinking of, and he didn’t need
to mention it.

“I know - Krum,” smirked Ron, and Hermione looked instantly annoyed. “Still writing to him,
aren’t you?”

Hermione looked at Ron with daggers in her eyes. “So what if it’s from Viktor, Ron?” she
snapped. Ron didn’t answer, but he was still smirking, looking unfazed. He was beginning to act
like Malfoy. Harry wanted to ask Ron to stop antagonizing Hermione, but he remembered what they had
talked about last night regarding how he felt about Krum. Still, he could still try to intervene to
prevent a heated argument between Ron and Hermione from happening next.

“Hey, it could be for me – maybe from Russelpunk,” Harry said, placing his hands on Ron and
Hermione’s shoulder. They both found what Harry said surprising, though Ron had known Harry had
received a letter from the professor before thanking him for his lesson ideas.

“Why would Professor Russelpunk be writing to you?” asked Hermione.

“Why would he be writing to you *again*?” asked Ron next. Hermione glanced at Ron then back
at Harry again.

Harry told Ron and Hermione about the dream he had about Russelpunk a few nights ago. As Harry
had expected, they let out their usual expressions when he told them about something weird and
alarming: Ron’s eyes had gotten round and Hermione buried her fingernails on her cheeks.

“Lord Voldemort might think he could gain something by murdering Russelpunk, Harry,” suggested
Hermione, “but what?”

“Sorry, I don’t know,” Harry sighed. “But he’s seems to be in real danger and he could be
Voldemort’s next victim – we just can’t do anything about it while we’re away from him.”

“Let’s just hope he’d still be around when we get back to Hogwarts,” said Ron seriously. “We
could warn him, though.”

“Yeah, but how?” Harry said.

“We’ll write him,” Hermione recommended. “Let’s write him about your dream.”

“I’ve thought of that, too,” said Harry, walking back and forth, “but I’m not sure how he’s
going to take it. I was hoping we could tell him at Hogwarts, at least we could hold him still if
he’d faint or freak out in terror.”

Ron and Hermione murmured in agreement, admitting that they weren’t sure how mentally stable
Russelpunk could be. They could not forget how he looked like when Draco put him down in front of
the class.

“How about telling Dumbledore?” suggested Ron this time. Harry paused to think about it for a
minute, but he eventually decided against it.

“Maybe, but I think Dumbledore has a lot on his hands at the moment,” he said slowly, “like
taking care of this Order and Hogwarts at the same time. I think we’ll just have to hope we could
catch up with Russelpunk after New Year’s.”

“That’s taking an awful lot of risk,” Hermione said anxiously. “What if he turns out dead before
we ever get back to Hogwarts?”

“I hope not,” Harry said.

“Well, the only good thing is that it’ll prove the Defence Against Dark Arts job’s still jinxed
up to now,” Ron said nonchalantly.

Hermione, however, didn’t find that amusing and said, “Why you miserable little…”

“I think we’re missing lunch!” interrupted Harry quickly. “Let’s go.”

They all walked together in silence, but Ron and Hermione looked at each other from the corner
of their eyes all the way to the house. Harry, at the same time, felt disappointed he didn’t have a
chance to talk with Hermione alone today like he hoped to. Perhaps he could still have the chance
later on, he thought. He allowed his mind to look forward to something else like the delicious
lunch up they’d be having up ahead.

When they had reached the house shortly, however, what they saw made them forget what was in
their minds. Grimmauld had a visitor for lunch today, and he was discussing something at the table
with Dumbledore, Arthur and Molly Weasely, Moody, Lupin, and Tonks.

Harry, Ron, and Hermione stopped on their tracks just a few feet away from the windows. Hermione
nudged her elbow at Harry’s ribs and said, “Is that who I think it is, Harry?”

Ramius Palkov, the ministry wizard Fudge said was a fugitive of the law, was in Grimmauld Place.
He was a stocky man who looked almost fifty years old, six feet tall, fifteen pounds overweight,
and wore a scruffy looking beard and an eye patch.

“What’s Ramius Palkov doing here?” said Ron.

“Dumbledore said he trusted Palkov during his meeting with Fudge, remember?” Hermione replied,
squeezing Harry’s arm. “I guess he might be a member of the Order we keep hearing on about.”

“Maybe,” said Harry, thinking. “C’mon, we won’t know for sure when we’ll just stand here. Let’s
get in and see what they’re talking about.” They walked inside the house together as quietly as
they can.

“Hermione! Glad to see you’re already fine this morning!” said Arthur Weasley pleasantly when he
saw her, Harry, and Ron come over to the table to join them for lunch.

“Thank you, Mr. Weasley,” Hermione responded, grinning. She glanced over to Dumbledore, who
looked pleased seeing her come out of her horrendous fever last night, and she returned his smile.
When her eyes landed on Ramius, she suddenly felt cold because he was looking at her very intently,
his face was drawn with unmistakable satisfaction.

“Harry,” she whispered, grasping his arm with both hands. “He’s looking at me.”

Harry snapped a look at Ramius, who was still staring at Hermione. He would have demanded Palkov
to stop staring at Hermione if Dumbledore had not spoken.

“Yes, Ramius,” said Dumbledore happily. “That’s her, Hermione Granger.” He was oddly smiling.
Ramius breathed deeply with tears welling in his eyes, and stood up courteously for Hermione. Harry
just stood still, bewildered at the show of emotion from the man who looked menacing in the Daily
Prophet, and Ramius noticed this.

“Please forgive me, Mr. Potter,” said Ramius tentatively, “but it’s the first time I’ve ever met
the girl in the picture I found in Bulgaria…”

“Huh?” said Hermione.

“That’s right, Hermione,” said a female voice from the kitchen that she recognized at once. It
was Olga Gargarin, the Auror Harry, Hermione, and Ron befriended. “He’s the Auror from Bulgaria who
found the picture left by the Oarling.”

“Olga!” Hermione said happily, running towards and locking herself into hug with her.

Ron went over to Ramius first and extended his hand for him to shake, which Ramius happily took.
“Mr. Palkov, if it weren’t for you, Hermione won’t be with us right now. Thank you!”

Ramius smiled broadly and simply said, “You’re welcome, sir.” Harry smiled at him at last and
shook his hand, too.

Hermione and Olga were already through with their embrace and Harry joyfully greeted Olga.
Hermione approached Ramius slowly with a deep feeling of appreciation for the man who had
indirectly saved her from living a life like of a zombie. She didn’t know what to say and just
tried to follow Harry and Ron by shaking Ramius’ hand. Ramius, however, took and kissed Hermione’s
hand politely, much to her surprise.

“I hope you’re all right now, Miss Granger,” said Ramius, smiling.

“I-I am,” she replied, looking flushed. “Thanks to you, sir!”

“Actually, I want to thank you…and your friends. You defeated the Oarling in one night – Aurors
like us had tried for years with no success. Calling it a glorious feat would be a huge
understatement. It has relieved us of the huge burden for us Aurors within a thousand kilometers,
and it’s one less to worry about now…”

“There are more?” asked Ron, horrified.

“Two, I’m afraid,” sighed Ramius deeply. “We thought the one you got was the last one this
century and our Spanish and American counterparts are on the case for their own Oarlings, so at
least the British and Bulgarian Aurors can now focus on other things now.”

“But if they don’t discover who the Oarlings are, the monsters could still get in Britain,
right?” said Hermione, horrorstruck. She was still a little bit traumatized by her first and only
encounter with the monster.

Olga approached Hermione and put a gentle hand on her shoulder and said, “Don’t worry, dear, the
odds of another Oarling targeting you again are a trillion to one.” Hermione laughed along with
her, but what she was now worried about was the other girls who might become the victims.

“Ramius, like Olga, is our guest in Grimmauld,” said Dumbledore gently to everyone within
earshot. “Please don’t be wary of him, since he’s not a traitor like Cornelius is painting him. He
and Olga have my full confidence.”

Harry saw Mad-Eye Moody not looking happy from across the table – he took a long swig from his
flask, his magical eye locked at Ramius Palkov. He thought that Moody didn’t seem convinced that
his fellow Auror was trustworthy. If he were to choose between Dumbledore’s and Moody’s judgment of
a person, he’d heavily lean on towards Dumbledore, so he chose to shrug Moody’s strange look off
and not mind it.

Dumbledore invited everyone to gather round the table and eat their lunch. Olga and Hermione sat
beside each other, while the elder wizards grouped themselves at one side of the table and the kids
(including the rest of the Weasleys) at the other. Molly had prepared spaghetti and bread for
today, which tasted very good to everyone, especially for Ron who had three helpings.

“How’s work at the Ministry, Olga?” asked Hermione, as she watched Ron in disgust over his bad
table manners.

“I don’t know if I feel lucky I’m still on the job now that Ramius and Nikolai Berdinski have
been sacked,” Olga replied, groaning. “I’ve never felt alone in my life - Cornelius is getting
unbearable – I wish he’d fire me, too, because then I could go back to Bulgaria where I have lots
of friends working in that Bureau. But with all what You-Know-Who’s doing now in England, I don’t
want to get fired at the same time. I feel I’ve got a lot to do to help Headmaster Dumbledore here
with the fight against him.”

“Thank you, Olga,” said Dumbledore. “Just keep holding on there. We’re all behind you. We need
all the hands in the Ministry that we could trust. We got a couple more there, but if you
leave…”

“Lucius is getting important again, too, I heard,” said Arthur. “He’s actively influencing
Fudge’s decisions and I know he’s doing all he can to make you look bad, Olga.”

“Why?” asked Hermione. “What does he have against Olga?”

“It’s because of the Chadron case, Hermione,” answered Tonks. “Olga gathered evidence to link
Malfoy to the conspiracy, but because of his ‘magnanimous contributions’ to the ministry as Fudge
had called it, he was cleared. I’m sure he didn’t take it all too lightly.”

“What’s bad,” said Ramius, munching a meatball, “is that the suspected Death Eaters we have
arrested were all released without charges. We investigated the murders of the wizard families,
identified the perpetrators, and wrote all the letters to the next of kin, but Fudge intervened and
fired us instead of helping us solve the case. He told us we weren’t authorized to write the
letters, but that’s always been part of our job description and he knows it.”

Olga shook her head and said, “I thought after that Chadron case and the first wizard murders we
could net more than a few Death Eaters in the Bureau, but…” she shrugged.

“So who was among them?” said Lupin.

“Cassius Wallace is one – we have enough proof to send him to Azkaban,” replied Ramius. “Only
that Lucius is doing all he can to find and hide him.”

“Where is he now?” Hermione frowned. She had seen this certain wizard back in Hogwarts conniving
with Jack Chadron and was eager to know what had happened to him.

“That – that’s classified, Hermione,” said Arthur uneasily. “Let’s just say he’s in proper
custody, right Ramius?”

“That’s true,” he replied. Harry, meanwhile, swore Ramius’ nose looked different a moment
ago.

“Cassius is talking, all right,” Olga said brightly. “Only that it isn’t much – he’s just a low
level Death Eater, barely new. But we’re getting bits and pieces of useful information about who
the new Death Eaters are. The only bad thing we got from him was the sad fact that true Aurors are
working in secret while Death Eaters are getting openly aggressive. It’s supposed to be the
opposite…”

Everybody looked at each other with gloom. Voldemort was getting on really fast with his
sinister work.

“So what’s the score the night before last, Dad?” Ron asked Arthur slowly. “You know, about the
attacks.”

“Forty two Muggles and twelve wizards dead,” Arthur said, shivering. “The most significant was
in Longley – thirty Muggles in one place.” Lupin and Tonks both whistled at the same time.

“How can Fudge ever cover that up?” said Harry, slamming his fist on the table. “Professor
Dumbledore said the resort was attacked by dogs the size of bulls! Who could possibly miss
that?”

“I know,” said Lupin. “Since the victims were all Muggles, the Daily Prophet naturally won’t
cover that. Muggle newspapers reported it in their own press that it was a terrorist hijacking gone
bad – I bet Fudge asked the Muggle Prime Minister to cook up that story. I guess it fitted well to
his agenda because he was selling the idea of going into a war with some other country. The only
thing left Fudge had to worry about were the ones involving the wizard families being murdered in
one night.”

“What was his story?”

“Serial killers,” quipped Lupin, and Moody barked with laughter. His laugh was derived from his
feeling of intense contempt towards Fudge. The others found Fudge’s excuse very silly and they
laughed soon after, though halfheartedly.

“I’ve heard dogs barking in Xanthius when we were imprisoned there,” said Harry, making almost
everyone stop feeding themselves with spaghetti. Harry looked around at each and every face and
said, “What’s the matter?”

Dumbledore said, “That’s the closest confirmation we have that the Hybrids in Longley may be
linked to Lord Voldemort, Harry.” The Aurors murmured in agreement.

“Was this the exact sound you heard?” asked Ramius, and he let out a loud and authentic animal
sound that made everyone cover their ears. It resonated like a giant Rottweiler with a mix of an
angry dinosaur’s.

“Yeah, much like that,” Harry said, massaging his ears. “But they were far away…”

Ginny angrily wiped her dress of fallen tomato sauce.

“Awesome!” said Tonks. She looked extremely impressed. “You got to teach me how to do that,
Ramius!”

“Thank you for the compliment, Miss Tonks,” Ramius said proudly. “There’ll be a time for that, I
promise.”

“So the Hybrids are coming from Xanthius,” Dumbledore mused, stroking his beard. “That means we
don’t have to look everywhere to find out where they came from.”

“I’ll tell Kingsley about it,” proposed Arthur, “he was practically tearing off any reference to
huge animals in the Ministry. I kept telling him they weren’t Saint Bernards.”

“Yes, you do that, Arthur, please.”

“It’s nice to know somebody’s now doing something against Voldemort,” said Hermione
interestedly. “I’d like to read more about the Order – I’ve never found any subject about it in
books…”

“To describe it with just a few sentences, Hermione,” Dumbledore said patiently, and smiling,
“the Order of the Pheonix, as what it is called, is a *secret* society of wizards who banded
up together to fight Lord Voldemort. This existed before you were born, and it’s only recently that
this was reactivated because of his return. There were originally more than twenty of us, including
Harry’s parents, but we had suffered a high rate of casualties until Voldemort tried to kill
Harry.”

“So that’s why my parents were killed – because they were members?” asked Harry.

“Indirectly, Harry. Not even Voldemort knew there was such a thing as an Order against him – he
only knew there was a group out to oppose him. I’m asking all of you to keep the existence of this
Order a very deep secret. Never talk to anyone outside of the Order about this and where it is
found. It is the only group in existence to fight Lord Voldemort. Do you vow?”

Everyone around who was new gave their word to Dumbledore without any question.

“Thank you,” Dumbledore said with strong satisfaction. “I believe I have some pictures of the
former and surviving members of the Order around the Library if you want to know who they
were.”

“You bet!” said Hermione, looking excited.

“Now, Harry, Ron and Hermione,” Dumbledore continued, “Grimmauld Place is your safe haven when
out of Hogwarts. You will never be attacked like what happened at the Burrow the night before last.
Even owlpost won’t find you here, unless I authorize it. Hermione, it’s okay to write your parents
– just use the owls you’ll find here. They’re about the only people I’ve cleared for owl post. If
you could hold on until you’ll return to Hogwarts you can write your friend in Bulgaria from
there.”

“Yes, I understand. Thank you, Professor,” Hermione said, though she looked visibly
disappointed. Ron placed his fork on his platter a little more forcefully than usual, which made
Harry look at him edgily.

Olga cleared her throat and said, “Professor Dumbledore, is it okay to…”

“By all means, Olga,” he replied, bowing his head curtly.

“I think you already know what’s in store for Hogwarts after New Year,” Olga told the young ones
around the table. Harry, Ron, Hermione, Ginny, and the twins nodded their heads.

“Are all the ministry wizards dispatched to Hogwarts by Fudge really serving You-Know-Who,
Olga?” asked Arthur.

“Yes, I say just about everyone,” Olga said gloomily. “Lucius had a big hand on who to assign.
Fudge really trusts him, and he refused to believe they’re Death Eaters when I told him. I then
tried to suggest a few wizards our group could trust but Fudge rejected them outright. There are a
couple of wizards tasked in Hogwarts by Fudge that I know aren’t under Lucius or they’re Death
Eaters. They could be of use to us – make them our informers. I’ll let you know who they are when
it’s time.”

“You’re doing a good job, Olga,” said Dumbledore.

“Is Horace Whipple a Death Eater, too?” asked Harry.

Olga, Arthur, and Ramius were taken slightly aback – they didn’t know how Harry had known
Whipple to be one of the wizards assigned to Hogwarts. Dumbledore explained to them how they had
found out. After hearing about it, Moody exchanged seats with Ginny and talked with George and Fred
in an undertone.

“Yes, we believe he’s the leader of the Death Eaters at Hogwarts,” replied Olga. “Whatever
happens, please don’t trust him, whoever he is. If I can turn the two other wizards to our side,
I’ll send you an owl to tell you who they are so you can ask for help from them if you need to.
Hermione, are you up to some sort of assignment from us?”

“Sure!” Hermione replied. She felt instantly excited to do something interesting at Hogwarts for
the Order other than studying for a change.

“You’re a prefect,” Olga continued. “I know for a fact that Fudge will be deputizing Hogwarts
prefects to help his Ministry Wizards police the school. You’ll be in close contact with them to
get your instructions. Now, we’d like you to look around casually and try to find out what they’re
up to…”

“You mean like a spy?” she interrupted eagerly.

“A little, but please don’t overdo it. Don’t go the extra mile and try to get in places you’re
not supposed to be – we absolutely won’t permit that. They might kill you. You only need to tell us
what your ears would naturally hear. But I really doubt it if they can afford to talk louder about
their plans with students around. Still, a bit of intelligence is better than nothing at all.”

“But, Olga,” said Harry, looking apprehensive. “Hermione’s closely identified with me. She might
get into a lot of trouble nosing around…or worse, killed like you said”

Ron and Ginny both murmured in agreement.

“Yes, so that’s why it’s important that Hermione mustn’t go just beyond hearing the Death
Eaters’ conversations within earshot. They might just slip a bit of information or two, and that’s
good enough. Hermione, you must judge whether it’s safe to keep doing it at the first three days.
Be honest about what you feel, and we will ask you to abandon it and just work like all other
prefects in Hogwarts.”

Dumbledore, Lupin, and Arthur all nodded at Hermione.

“I-I don’t know about that…” Harry groaned, glancing anxiously at Hermione. “Please, let
somebody else do it…”

Hermione, however, squeezed Harry’s hand from under the table, which made him jump slightly.
“Harry,” she said, looking straight at his eyes, “it’s worth a try – I’ll cease at once when I feel
it’d be too dangerous…” They both stared at each other’s eyes for a long time, lost in their own
thoughts, and only a fork the fell down from Ron’s plate made them break off.

Dumbledore smiled and said, “Don’t worry, Harry, we won’t be asking her if we know she’ll be in
extreme or mortal danger. I’ll tell her what and what not to do, and I know she could handle it.
Furthermore all the teachers have been asked to keep checking on her, and we will respond
appropriately if something untoward happens. We will all be responsible for her safety, I can
assure you that.”

“Can I also go with her if I want to?” Harry asked, just barely hearing what Dumbledore had
said. “I mean, watching her back, too?”

“Certainly, Harry, but please don’t forget the rules. Non-prefects mustn’t be out of their dorms
beyond nine in the evening. Also, in case you forgot, you aren’t permitted to usurp the functions
of the Prefects – even when walking alongside with them. That rule was thought of to prevent
students from being *seen* wandering around the corridors at night by using their Prefect
friends as escorts…”

Harry nodded. Dumbledore was giving him a hint on how to circumvent the rules, and he
understood. “Yes, sir, I’m perfectly aware about the rules, thanks,” Harry said. Hermione smiled at
him broadly, looking appreciative at his show of concern.

“Just don’t rely on it too much, Potter,” warned Moody. “Some Death Eaters might have the power
to see anyone under the cloak. It’s a special skill most wizards normally don’t tell anyone
about.”

“Thanks, I’ll be careful…”

“Oh, goodness, look at the time,” Dumbledore exclaimed. “We’ve been talking too long and we
forgot about eating lunch. Our spaghetti’s getting cold - I suggest we indulge ourselves with
life’s simple pleasures instead of sulking about the future, shall we? We still have lots of time
to prepare, don’t you worry. Molly, do you have any more of your delicious sauce?”

“Coming right up!” she replied from the kitchen.

“I think I’m fine already,” said Harry, starting to stand up. “If you’ll excuse me…” Everybody
nodded without saying anything; they were too preoccupied with their taste buds.

“Harry, wait up!” Hermione called. “Let’s go back to the garden. I’m still not through exploring
it. Ron, you coming?”

Ron, however, didn’t seem to hear Hermione, and kept on eating his fourth helping of spaghetti,
though he did his best not to make it too obvious he was snatching glances at her and Harry.
Hermione shrugged after not getting a reply from him, pulled Harry casually away from the table,
and started to guide him towards the terrace outside.

Harry, meanwhile, had glanced at Moody, who was talking quietly with the twins in a businesslike
manner. Passing by them, he managed to hear Moody say, “So can you make these things into other
shapes, too, other than an ear? It only needs more magic to extend its range…”

He would have wanted to listen more to their conversation to at least know what Moody was on
about, but he thought he’d had his chance to be with Hermione alone now and couldn’t resist it.

-o0o-

Harry didn’t know why Hermione suddenly wanted to be back in the garden with him after he
excused himself from eating more lunch, but he admitted at himself he was getting excited about it.
What he did know now that he felt tense again being this close to her – she didn’t let go of his
hand since they walked out of the house. She had not even spoken a word. She just pulled him to
whatever direction she took, and eventually she chose one of the benches right at the center of the
garden in front of the decorative fountain.

Hermione sat down on one side of the bench and glanced up to Harry. He felt petrified – he
covered it up by looking around the snowy sky, saying nothing.

“Sit down here, Harry,” Hermione said, patting the empty space on the bench beside her. Harry
swallowed, and gently settled himself down. His palms were sweaty, and he tried to rub them dry on
his trousers.

“Nice garden, isn’t it?” Harry managed to say without choking.

“Yeah, I could spend forever in this place – it’s so serene.”

“Uh-uh…”

“Harry, I want to thank you.”

“Oh, for what?” Harry asked gently.

“For worrying about me a lot during the last few days,” she said, smiling. Her eyes twinkled
back at him, and they ran around Harry’s face fondly.

“Oh, you’re welcome. What’re friends for?”

“Friends…yeah,” Hermione said absently, and she fell silent for a moment, looking around at the
trees. “Could you tell me about your friend?”

“Uh, friend?” Harry said a little confused. “Who?”

“You know, Stephanie – Willard’s niece.” Hermione did her best to sound casual, but her voice
was oddly shaking, like it was forced.

“Ah, Stephanie,” repeated Harry. He didn’t know how to start describing Stephanie to Hermione.
Willard’s niece was a nice girl, talented with medicinal magic, and it was not a secret that she
was a fan of Harry’s. But he had grown attached to her in their brief companionship because of
their common bond with Willard. For Harry, that was harmless – they would have to communicate with
each other more to learn about how Willard was amid his disappearance. However, Harry suddenly
realized Hermione might be feeling uncomfortable about his relationship with Stephanie – was that
why she looked angry back at the Burrow when they said goodbye to each other? Was Hermione jealous
of Stephanie?

He glanced back at Hermione, who was sitting shiftily on the bench. She was looking around other
than him as if she was waiting for his answer. He had to be careful with his reply, he thought,
because she might really feel uncomfortable about the subject. He might be wrong about it, but he
chose to be safe than sorry.

“She’s just my acquaintance for the moment,” Harry started slowly, and he told her what happened
at Willard’s hotel. Hermione listened very intently to his story, and gasped at the right parts
when learning of the reasons behind Willard’s disappearance. To Harry’s relief, the new subject
somehow had taken off some of the tension he felt when he was this close to Hermione.

“But that doesn’t make sense, Harry,” Hermione said, trying to tie up the facts. “What do they
want from Willard? I’ve read about Metavira somewhere – it’s just a healing potion, but I’m not
sure for what ailment. I just skimmed that subject since I felt it wasn’t that important to
me.”

“When did you read about it?”

“Third year,” Hermione replied.

“You mean you’ve read about Willard two years ago?” said Harry, surprised. If by chance he had
read along with Hermione the same book then (which was nearly impossible given his mild
bibliophobia), he would have recognized Willard at once when he met him for the first time. What a
small world, it was.

“Yep. Willard Wraskon was quite famous for his potion for a time, but he slipped off the public
eye afterwards. I didn’t know it was the same Willard you were on about after we got back from
Xanthius until you mentioned Metavira. I don’t really remember which book was it, but I’m sure it’s
in Hogwarts Library…”

Harry sighed. He admitted he only knew Willard by his first name. Not until he met his brother
Steve did he know his last. Not that it mattered back then – he was too busy worrying along with
Ron where to go after being tagged as fugitives.

“What were the names of the other missing scientists again?” asked Hermione.

“I kind of forgot,” said Harry, feeling a little embarrassed. “But there was one Girbeau or
something…”

“Ah, that would be Francs Girbeau, he’s French. I got to look it up again at the Library. He
made a different potion that’s useful for some other use. I think we could at least paint a picture
of what Voldemort might be after by abducting them – if he was responsible at all with their
disappearance at all. We’ll find references of their achievements, and try to find what they’re
famous of. Maybe they’re cooking up a cocktail potion of some sort…”

“That’s a brilliant idea, Hermione!” Harry said, impressed at Hermione’s keen sense of
thought.

“But, there’s a slight problem, Harry,” she said, sighing.

“What?”

“Some of them have a patent for their inventions,” she said, shrugging. “We may not know what
constitutes their own potions until their patents expire, especially for Girbeau’s – his
discoveries were only made just recently and he was making a lot of Galleons for them.”

Harry groaned. He thought Hermione was already zeroing in on the reasons of their abduction. If
they knew of the formulas for the individual potions these scientists were known for, they could
mix it up and try to find what the effect would be. That was a dangerous thing to do, but at least
they would have an insight of what Voldemort was up to.

“Well, I guess the only thing we could do is suggest to Dumbledore what you have thought of,
Hermione,” said Harry disappointedly. “He might get a new lead from it. It does make sense.”

“I’ll try to look things up at the Library when get back,” Hermione volunteered. She looked real
serious about the matter. “I can’t take it if we’re just doing nothing, standing around when Death
Eaters are up to something. I can’t believe Fudge’s allowing Hogwarts to be infiltrated by
them.”

Harry agreed. “I dunno what he ate or drank, but it’s like he’s giving Lucius Malfoy a free
hand. Surely Draco will be unbearable when get back…Dumbledore seems to be powerless to convince
Fudge to call the Death Eaters off.”

“Hmmph! That’s because Fudge’s using legal tactics against him…”

They looked at each other and said at the same time, “Malfoy.”

“Let’s not forget about Russelpunk, Harry,” Hermione said. “We’ll try to look after him, too.
Your dream was too ominous for comfort – it meant something.”

“Okay,” Harry said, nodding. “And we do what we can to find out about anything at Hogwarts –
we’ll help each other. Hermione, Olga’s right. You must be careful playing spy with Whipple or the
other Death Eaters, too. If I can’t help you when they’d hurt you, I won’t forgive myself for the
rest of my life!”

Hermione glanced slowly at Harry – he was wearing that same look on his face back at King’s
Cross. Instead of laughing about it, she felt thankful for Harry’s concern for her. “Thanks,
Harry,” she said, smiling sweetly. “Thanks for really caring always. Uhm, did you really mean what
you said about your dream…you know, the part where you thought it was me in the cupboard?” she
asked slowly.

Harry hesitated to answer for a moment because he was initially afraid he’d go overboard with
his answer and make Hermione mad at him. But he felt this was his chance – his chance to tell
Hermione what he really felt about her. She was giving him the opportunity to open himself up to
her. Was it safe? How would she take it if he told her he’d wanted her more than a best friend? He
had to decide and decide now, or else it’ll be a long time before he’d have this chance again. He
remembered Hermione’s actions back at her room when she had recovered from her burning fever. He
hoped it was a good indication that everything will be all right if he just went honest with her.
He breathed deeply and looked for the right words to say. Hermione was waiting patiently for his
answer, and she kept on looking at him with renewed fondness.

“Yeah, I did,” Harry said shyly. “It was real scary – I dreaded seeing you in there with your
eyes staring lifelessly ahead…oh, sorry about. But it’s all because of your eyes. It’s the first
thing that, uhm, attracted me to…er, you know…”

“Yes?” Hermione asked softly, her face had gotten brighter. Harry didn’t see her face, though,
because his eyes were busy darting from one spot to another at the garden.

Harry cleared his throat and breathed deeply. He shut his eyes, and counted to three. He
breathed deeply like he was preparing for the words he was about to say were deep inside his
lungs.

“But you see I believe there is something else,” he exhaled, heart thumping. “Something more
intense. I felt that not only I lost a friend, but I also lost something more special than that. I
don’t understand it, either, but I was afraid of the reality of never ever seeing you again, seeing
your face, your – gorgeous brown eyes - ” he said, surprising himself, but he didn’t want to stop
now that he said that.

“We’ve spent so much time together – as friends. We’ve been in so many places all these years.
So many situations that – I don’t know, that has bonded us even more. Yet I didn’t take in what I’d
feel until the time I thought I lost you. It was a dream, yeah, but it was all too real. Then I
knew there is something deep that I’d never known I held on all these years, and I want to know
what it is, if it’s true - if you give me a chance to make it flourish. I want to know if we’re
more than just best friends. Are we?”

Hermione, however, was oddly silent. Harry didn’t know how she had taken that – he still wasn’t
looking at her face. It made him feel gradually nervous. He had heard stories about best friends
breaking up because one felt differently and the other hating him or her for it. Harry now started
to regret what he said – this wasn’t what he wanted. He could have given it more time. He was
getting too fast. Maybe this wasn’t what she had expected for an answer, perhaps something just
milder. He dreaded to see Hermione at his side looking livid. He could see her hand slapping his
face at any moment.

But she hadn’t responded yet. Maybe he could still say sorry to her and tell her he won’t do it
again, he thought. He still had time! His head felt like a ton, but he had to look at her again.
“Hermione, I’m sorry I…”

*Fwump*! Hermione had fainted. She had fallen down from her bench and landed hard on the
stone walkway. Harry panicked.

“Hermione!” he exclaimed, going over to her. “Are you okay? Please answer me!” He lifted her up
and settled her on the bench and fanned his hand over her head to give her a little breeze.

Seconds later, she came to, and she was feeling very groggy.

“Hermione, how’re you feeling?”

She looked around, looking confused for a moment, and sat upright on the bench with the help of
Harry. “Harry, what’re we doing here? What time is it?”

“We were talking,” Harry replied. “I-It’s one o’clock in the afternoon. Are you okay?”

“Yeah, of course I’m okay,” she said, though she closed her eyes and massaged her aching head.
“Damn these headaches. I thought I was through with them…Omigosh! Did I oversleep and miss
lunch!”

“No, uh, we were…”

“Could you please help me up? I got to go back to the house – strangely I don’t feel hungry, but
I’ll have to eat lunch for the sake of it. I might go hungry in the afternoon.” Hermione stood up
by herself anyway and fixed herself up. “You coming?”

“Uh, I’ll follow in a little while,” he replied slowly. “Why don’t you, uh, hurry up or you’ll
find the table bare.”

When he lost sight of Hermione going back towards the house, Harry breathed deeply and sat back
on the bench as if had sprinted for miles. He had managed to tell her what he felt for her but at
the same time Hermione was attacked by her headaches brought about by her accident at Hogwarts.
That meant whatever she was doing for the last hour or so, she had no recollection of it.

He then had his concerns for Hermione – he hoped her condition wasn’t permanent like Madam
Pomfrey had told him, because if it was, then it was just like dementia in a mild form. Harry felt
pity for her again. She had gone through a lot of pain lately from her accident to her recent
fever. But he knew she didn’t need pity from him – she needed his patience, understanding, and help
towards her recovery. Like a very good *friend*.

Harry sighed. Would he feel lucky that Hermione had practically not heard of his confession that
might have offended her (even to the extent of a headache attack)? He felt he’d never know how
Hermione looked when he told her about his feelings – if he had looked at her in the eyes when he
told her so, he could at least have an idea how she was absorbing it. It would then help him decide
if he’d try to tell her again at the right time. Now he was unsure of everything again. He didn’t
know if he’ll ever raise the subject again fearing that Hermione might not take it lightly for real
the next time.

“Harry, Harry, Harry,” he muttered to himself. “Why’s this happening to you?!?”

He stood up and slouched back towards toward the house, not noticing Ron staring at him from a
window up the second floor, holding up something at his ear, and looking extremely
disappointed.

-o0o-

“Take them away!” roared Lucius in his huge study at the Malfoy Manor, pointing to two shaking
Death Eaters who had reported to him today.

“No, please! Take us where? Take us where?” said one of the scared Death Eaters, and they were
dragged out of the study to an unknown place by their own colleagues. The sounds of their cries
soon died out when Campion closed the doors and faced Lucius.

“Those incompetent fools didn’t get what I wanted, Campion,” screamed Lucius.

Campion chose not to comment and merely nodded. Lucius was fuming. His face was red and slammed
his cane on his shiny table, creating a splintery wound on the surface, which Narcissa would be
certainly be furious of. That didn’t matter.

“The other group, Wilson and Oakley, did accomplish their mission, sir,” Campion spoke softly.
“At least we can take it from there.”

“But that means I have only *one* to work with! One!” Lucius said, holding out his
finger.

“What do you want us to do now, sir?”

Lucius didn’t answer at once looked out the window to try to calm down and think. After a few
long minutes he thought he could still salvage the situation. His task would be a little more
complicated to perform, but Campion was right. It would have been bad if he also hadn’t gotten the
one he called the “Reserve”, so he thought he should feel at least lucky that this wasn’t the case.
Voldemort was getting impatient, but he could still attain what he was out to do. Although it was
against his and Voldemort’s principles to use his newly acquired asset, it was better than nothing
at all.

“Tell the others about the situation,” instructed Campion. “They might have to change their
plans slightly. Tell only those who need to know – I don’t want any leakages, especially to the
Dark Lord. I’ll try to fix this complication as much as I can, but the important tasks must be
done. We must settle on what we have now.”

Campion bowed at Lucius and went off towards the door. Lucius shook his head and pushed a lamp
aside with his cane, sending it to the floor crashing. There was no such thing as a perfect
plan.

After gathering up some documents from his desk, he fixed himself up for his next meeting with
Voldemort. Lucius was already lagging behind schedule, and the recent bungling of the current phase
by his foolish Death Eaters may have pushed it even more. He decided not to infuriate the Dark Lord
prematurely by telling him the whole truth just yet. Lucius got out of his office, regaining his
confidence of still do the job despite the setback.

-o0o-

*Next Chapter coming soon…*



11. Death Eaters at Hogwarts Again
----------------------------------

**SLIGHTLY EDITED FROM LAST VERSION**

**Thanks, Ridxwan for your criticism…Oh…my…gawd! I didn’t realize this chapter sounded a little
gay, like he called it. That wasn’t supposed to happen. So I’ve slightly modified some entries to
this chapter. Thanks to the critique, because it helped free up some redundancies to the story and
this slightly different chapter will actually help improve the plot! Really! Thanksss…**

*Original Authors Note: I’m very sorry for the long delay of this update! What’s my excuse
now? Plot holes that significantly wrecked the flow of the story’s future chapters! I can’t tell
you what they were, of course, but I fixed them by rewriting the majority of this chapter to fit in
very well to the ending. It was a nightmare, but I’m glad I discovered the plot holes before it was
too late. As a result, we have a domino effect for the subsequent chapters, quite a few of my
original ideas (though minor) were rendered irrelevant and so that means more rewrites ahead for
me, and a minor overhaul of the outline for the later chapters.*

*I hope readers will be patient when I write as carefully as I can before releasing new
chapters. If you find any inconsistencies (as I’m my own editor – hehe), please point them out
though reviews. I’m sure I missed something out of the confusion. Thanks!!!*

*Thanks very much to RidXwan for reviewing (he sent more than three reviews for this story,
counting the ones in Fanfiction.net). Thanks for making me smile like a madman, man!*

*Okay, enough of this dreary speech chockfull of excuses. On with the show!*

**Chapter 10: Death Eaters at Hogwarts…Again**

Ramius and Olga didn’t stay longer than anyone had expected and took their leave at the middle
of the night the same day. They still had so many tasks to do for Dumbledore at the Ministry, which
no one knew of except for them.

Despite being restricted to the confines of Grimmauld most of the time (except for the rare and
fully secured trip to Diagon Alley for some Christmas shopping) Harry and his friends had a
wonderful and relaxing vacation towards Christmas nonetheless. After all, this was the first time
Harry had ever experienced Christmas outside of Hogwarts and the Dursleys (if he had felt the
holidays at all while he lived with them). Grimmauld looked festive with a frosty Christmas tree,
mistletoes, candy canes, and all kinds of holiday decors.

To everyone’s nervous relief, there had been no new Death Eater attacks for days so far.
Dumbledore was uneasy about it, though. He thought of it as some kind of calm before the next
storm. He told Harry, Ron, and Hermione that the Dark Lord also liked to use this strategy: keeping
his enemies guessing of what and when his next move was. This was the least of Harry’s troubles
because he kept wondering where his godfather had gone to. Sirius had not returned to Grimmauld
since the last time he saw him but Dumbledore assured Harry that he was staying over at “a big
friend’s place”. Harry wished Dumbledore didn’t have to be vague about it although he felt better
now that he knew Sirius wasn’t wandering around like before.

This year’s Christmas Eve dinner was the most sumptuous of all dinners Harry, Ron, and Hermione
ever had. Molly was in her element with regards to cooking tasty dishes – everybody had to have
third to fourth helpings each of everything. They couldn’t say no to breakfast on Christmas Day
either because of the bacon, eggs, and lean ham. Ginny simply fled at the sight of them at the
table.

Sirius’ Screaming Scale was heard throughout Grimmauld on Christmas morning, teasing the people
trying to see how much weight they gained by bellowing words like “Hermione’s going fa-at!”, for
Lupin, “Gerrof! Gerrof!”, and Harry “Still thinking you’re skinny, aren’t ya?” (Hermione didn’t
need to get mad about the scale’s insults because she had seen it flying out of the window at least
twice already.)

The only damper to Harry and Hermione’s otherwise enjoyable holiday was Ron’s lessening
enthusiasm of spending time together with them. His daily mood appeared subdued ever since their
last conversation at the garden before meeting Ramius Palkov. Hermione was especially worried about
Ron, and he was usually evasive when she asked him what was wrong. Harry felt it, too, and made it
another point to talk to his best friend about it to help clear things up.

Harry, meanwhile, chose to set aside his determination to get another chance to open up his
feelings towards Hermione. He simply lacked the courage and knew that the last thing he wanted for
the rest of the holidays was Hermione not wanting to talk to him ever again because of it. Harry
also thought he almost knows why Ron was acting like a loner most of the time doing nothing but
lying down on his own bed almost all day just thinking to himself. Harry wasn’t sure about it,
though, because he had never again been alone with Hermione after his “abortive” confession with
her (that was five days ago). He, Hermione, and Ron had spent most of their time together like the
trio they had always been - if not alone to themselves at times. Still, he had to talk Ron again
and try to find out what was bothering him.

And it proved to be an unpleasant discussion.

“You don’t care about our own little trio, do you?” roared Ron at the garden Harry. Harry was
just sitting down on a bench, looking up at his livid best friend quietly. Ron had finally snapped
as Harry had feared.

“I do care about us. I…” Harry began but Ron cut him off again.

“No, you don’t! I can’t believe you’d be this insensitive and dishonorable, Harry! After what
we’ve talked about, you’re still chasing Hermione around like a caveman!”

“That’s not true, Ron!” Harry said, and he was getting increasingly peeved by Ron’s incessant
shouting. “We’ve been together with her all the time, and I haven’t been alone with Hermione except
for once – and we just talked about Russelpunk and the missing scientists…”

“Ha! Isn’t that the truth?” snorted Ron. “Selective amnesia, it is!”

“What do you mean?”

“You talked about your feelings with her, and Hermione’s little memory problem kicked in
fortunately at the right time…”

“How do you know about that?” Harry said, his stare at Ron getting sharper.

“I just know…”

“Don’t lie to me, Ron! We didn’t talk about romance! Ask Hermione. Prove you heard what he
talked about, or you’re just making it up!”

Ron stared back at Harry for a moment piercingly, trying to decide if he’d show Harry how he
knew about what transpired in their conversation when Ron was nowhere near them at that time. To
Harry’s shock, Ron contemptuously threw the rubber ear on top of the bed – it bounced and Harry
caught it.

“Now who’s lying, Harry?” said Ron angrily.

Ron proved without words Harry had lied to his best friend just to cover himself up. Harry would
have melted on the spot as he stared on the Extended Ears sitting on his palms. However, new anger
coursed from deep within him this time. Ron had eavesdropped on his and Hermione’s private
conversation without his knowledge and permission, and this was a very different matter as it was
intrusive. He didn’t know how Dumbledore took it all too lightly when he found he out they were
doing the same thing to him, but now he understood how it felt like. This was way more personal
than talking with Fudge.

“You were listening in on our conversation…” Harry began. Ron kept silent while he glared at
Harry and he looked unwavering in his determination to fight this one out.

“You were listening in on our conversation…” Harry repeated, gritting his teeth. “How could you,
Ron, you…have no right to do that, Ron! Have you ever listened to your mother about not invading
other people’s privacy?!?”

“Don’t you drag Mum into this, Harry!” Ron warned furiously, pointing a finger at him.

“I’m talking about your etiquette, not your mother!” Harry shouted.

“Whoa! I could see the old ‘change the subject quick’ trick coming! It won’t work on me, Harry.
You’re stooping so low as to try to hook up with our best friend. I should have known you were this
selfish ever since, Harry, and I haven’t bothered trying to follow you around wherever you go.
We’re through for good this time, Harry! I don’t want to talk to you ever again!”

“Fine!” Harry bellowed, swung his foot in midair like he now always did when he was extremely
angry, and moved to another spot further from Ron. He was so angry with Ron that he didn’t care to
say sorry anymore. He felt Ron had left (angrily, too) and threw a scathing look at Ron’s back as
he walked away fuming.

Harry could not believe how Ron could sever their friendship like this readily – the subject
about his desire for Hermione would have been easy to settle, but he didn’t feel he’d forgive him
for a long time because of his eavesdropping. Harry knew this shouldn’t have happened if Ron had
approached him nicely, but at the same he felt he should have not exploded like that when he
learned of Ron’s intrusion. They’ve been friends for so many years – Ron was the only true friend
he knew ever aside from Hermione, and he was already beginning to feel very sad they were breaking
up, especially during Christmas.

Harry didn’t go to the house for a while after his blistering encounter with Ron to avoid
meeting him again. However, he knew he couldn’t stay out here forever and whether he liked it or
not, he could still cross paths with him – Grimmauld wasn’t too big for the both of them. Harry was
still too angry with Ron that he didn’t remember deciding to return to his room to cool off. He
also didn’t remember meeting anyone along the way, though more than one had called on his name to
ask what was wrong with him.

Harry had gotten just outside the room he shared with Ron, and he felt anxious of what he could
do to him if he’d find him there. If Ron was inside, he’d just find another place to be.
Fortunately he wasn’t there, only his snowy owl Hedwig who was perched on the window sill. He got
in the room and found Ron’s bed devoid of sheets and pillows. His trunk was nowhere to be found,
too (clearly he had vacated this room already).

The only place Harry thought Ron could transfer to could be either his parents’ room or the
twins’. He bet his only glasses he chose to be with Fred and George, because knowing Ron, he
wouldn’t want to make Arthur and Molly wonder why he didn’t want to stay in the room with him
anymore. Molly would surely be unbearable for Ron admonishing him for going to a fight with his
best friend – she would probably try to convince them to make peace with each other. He wished Mrs.
Weasely would do so, because even though he hated what Ron did to listen in to his private
conversation with Hermione, he didn’t want to be enemies with him again. The sooner this little
conflict would be resolved, the better, but he was prepared for the possibility that this one won’t
end very soon.

Harry believed that with all the enemies he had in his life – Voldemort, Lucius, Draco, or maybe
even Dudley – the most difficult to deal with was his best friend, if not the worse. The longer the
conflict dragged on, the more it hurt because he’d be longing for his lost company. It was hard for
him to believe it was just only a few days ago when they helped each other get out of some sticky
situations as real friends, like their encounter with Steve Wraskon that Death Eater attack at that
Burrow. Now they hated each other.

He had now admitted he had made a mistake of pushing for something that he knew would anger Ron
– he thought he was ready to express his regret for it in front of him. But aside from being very
reluctant to give in to Ron *first* this time, it didn’t erase the fact that he eavesdropped
on his personal conversation with Hermione – Ron owed him an apology, too. A *big* one at
that.

“*He must apologize to me first*,” Harry thought at last. “What he did to me was much worse
than telling Hermione about my feelings. Right, Hedwig?”

Pride had prevailed over their friendship.

-o0o-

It took almost a couple of days for Hermione to notice that Harry and Ron weren’t talking to
each other. In fact, she was the first one to notice of all the people in Grimmauld. Harry and Ron
had skillfully avoided each other, but they both knew where the other was when somebody asked
them.

Concerned, Hermione chose to talk to Ron first about what’s going on between him and Harry, but
Ron was not talking. He flatly refused to tell her the details, which made Hermione slightly mad
with impatience.

“Ron!” she called as he stormed away from her, “Please, let me help you and Harry…” but he
didn’t go back to her at all.

Desperate to look for answers, she immediately searched for Harry and caught up with him at the
very bench they had sat on and talked a few days ago. Harry was all by himself, looking lonely from
Hermione’s standpoint. She sighed and approached him slowly.

“There you are,” she said as she got within a few feet from him. “I thought I’d find you
here.”

Harry was a bit startled with Hermione, though he smiled and dusted off the spot for her to sit
on.

“Can we talk?” Hermione asked.

“Sure, what’s on your mind?”

“Ron.”

“Oh. Him,” Harry said with bitterness in his voice. “What about?”

“I knew there was something wrong between the both of you, so I got concerned…and I asked him
about why you’re both fighting.”

“Great,” Harry muttered under his breath, “now he’s trying to make her mad at me by telling her
everything…”

“Sorry, what did you say?” asked Hermione, leaning closer to Harry.

“Nothing…nothing. What did he tell you?” Harry said, now looking anxiously at Hermione. He was
afraid Ron had told her some twisted tales to make him look like a jerk to her, thus getting her
sympathy.

“Practically nothing!” she said exasperatedly. “What’s going on between you two? You’ve fought
last year and you’re fighting again. Are we seeing some kind of a new tradition here?”

Harry just fell quiet. Hermione sat down beside him, determined to squeeze out some bit of an
explanation from Harry.

“Harry, I’d like to know – I need to know so that I could help you reconcile,” she wheedled,
moving closer to him. “It’s bad enough if you’re not in talking terms, but I don’t want to think
what’ll happen if it gets worse…”

“If he’ll apologize to me first I’ll consider talking to him again…”

“Why, what did he do?”

Harry hesitated answering her for a while, but he couldn’t deny to himself he did want
Hermione’s help to end this little war with Ron. It was only a few days old but it’s taking an
emotional toll for the trio already. Like most people, it wasn’t easy for Harry to live on with his
life while he knew he was not at peace with somebody, especially one of his best friends. But the
reason he would give Hermione why Ron hated him will be very revealing…he’d just have to tell her
about it using carefully chosen words…

“Ron…you see, thinks I’ve got the hots for you…” Harry trailed off. Now he’d done it. He let it
loose.

Instead of some expected moments of silence while Hermione absorbed that revelation, she said
“Oh, is that all?”

“Huh?” said Harry. He was completely surprised at Hermione’s reaction.

“You’re fighting because of the mere fact that you’re attracted to me?” she said, frowning.
“What right does he have to tell you what you must feel towards me? I don’t mind it at all if you
want me…I’ve got to have a word with him again…”

“Please, you don’t have to – I don’t know how he’ll take it…”

Hermione, in a rare form of delayed reaction for the brightest witch of her age, then snapped
into realization what she had just heard Harry say. She stared straightly at the space in front of
her for a good couple of minutes. She, then at last, gathered the strength to gaze back at him very
slowly even as her mind kept absorbing the impact of his revelation.

Hermione shifted on her seat awkwardly, and breathed in deeply like she was preparing to ask a
very difficult question. “Harry…Do you really…?” She glanced at Harry expectantly, but he didn’t
see the look on her face.

Harry stared straightly at the space in front of him. This was the exact condition that he had
wished for some time to really tell her what he felt for her, but ironically, something was holding
him back now, and sadly he didn’t know what it was. Things were getting too fast for his mind (and
to some degree, his heart) to process at the very moment. He thought he’d still needed time to
think it over. He’d pour out himself to Hermione right now, but he thought he had to resolve
everything first before he’ll commit himself to a relationship with her.

Above all, was he thinking right?

Harry, with much difficulty, now looked at Hermione straight at her widened brown eyes. Her face
revealed that she wanted something positive, the very first sign he ever had that Hermione might be
open to a relationship, not like his fears of being slapped across the face when he’d raise the
subject. Opportunity knocked on his noggin at the moment, but this time he now felt afraid - afraid
of wrecking the five-year old friendship he had with her if their romance didn’t work (before he
had just thought that letting her know about it would already wreck their friendship, but Harry had
gone to another step in the process). How would they relate to each other then, if that happened?
He again saw this on TV so many times – former couples going on with their lives apart from each
other. They usually forgot about each other, and when they met again, it always turned ugly. He
didn’t want that to happen to them at all. Perhaps TV mirrored real life, he wasn’t quite sure.

Now, Harry asked himself, why was he always this so negative? It seemed that he was gradually
losing control of his former self – his optimistic side. It’s just wasn’t like him at all. Just
when did this start at all? His mind was buzzing wildly.

He now had to choose between confirming it or by just lying about it by saying “*No, I don’t
have the hots for you, Hermione*,” but he knew she’d be positively insulted right there and
then. He would have lost the chance to get much closer to her forever because she’d be so angry
with him she won’t even say his name anymore.

*“Maybe I could just play it safe and dip my toe on the water first and see what happens…no
too quick…”* he thought.

It just came to him automatically:

He gave her a slight smile, keeping his green eyes locked to her brown ones. It was a smile that
spoke a thousand words, but at the same time, it seemed that it was void of any definite meaning.
Hermione breathed and stared at Harry. She ran her eyes around his face; he looked very handsome to
her at the very moment he wore that little smile. Instead of getting what he meant by that,
however, she became more confused. She didn’t know what Harry’s answer was. Was he confirming what
Ron said was true? Was he just flattered about it, or was he just teasing her?

*Pop! POP!*

“Tis getting too quiet, oy, mate?” Fred laughed beside George and slapping Harry and Hermione’s
shoulders from behind, startling them both and making them scream.

“Fred – were you listening to…” Harry started furiously after realizing it was the twins. He and
Hermione instantly went pale with embarrassment.

“Of course, not!” George said severely, acting scandalized. “We just apparated in to tell you
Sirius is looking for you!”

“Sirius is here?” Harry said happily, standing up at once and looked around the garden for any
sign of him.

“Hang on a minute!” said Hermione, regaining the color on her cheeks. “You two know how to
apparate already?”

“Do we look splinched to you, Hermione?” Fred said, faking annoyance. “Oh, wait, I think I have
George’s face by mistake.”

Harry laughed and Hermione followed on shortly.

“Hermione,” Harry said uncertainly, “sorry if this was cut short, but if it’s okay…”

“Oh, of course, Harry,” she replied, doing her best to hide the disappointment from her voice
(she failed). “By all means – he’s your godfather! Get going! Go on!” She then forced a smile,
which Harry returned.

“Hermione – sorry if I…”

“No, it’s okay…really,” she said with another forced grin. “Another time, maybe…”

Harry waved at her gently as he walked off and she waved back, too, looking dreamily ahead of
him. It was refreshing to know for Harry that Hermione didn’t object if he was romantically
interested with her, thanks to the slip of her tongue.

It was sadly another missed chance for Harry to really let her know how he felt for her (it was
getting more and more frequent, though), but he finally decided this wasn’t the time for it yet,
unfortunately. It was hard for him to admit it, but Ron was right. After thinking under much
pressure, he resolved it was of the utmost importance to reconstitute the trio first - only then
would Ron start to accept he could not stop him and Hermione from going steady. Of course, this
wasn’t the only motive why Harry wanted to make peace with Ron as soon as possible. The bond was
essential for their survival against Voldemort, too, like Dumbledore had told him countless
times.

The problem was how and when would stop being too selfish and wake up to reality?

-o0o-

Harry was happy to see Sirius back from wherever he came from. They met at the attic of Number
12 Grimmauld Place, which Buckbeak the Hippogriff inherited as his room. The attic was the perfect
place to be for Buckbeak because of its floor to ceiling window where he could just slip in and out
when he fancied (as long as it was at night).

“Where’ve you been?” Harry said happily, going into a hug with Sirius. “When I got out after
meeting Dumbledore, you were already gone.”

“I had to go somewhere, Harry, sorry,” Sirius replied. He pulled out a bag full of dead rats for
Buckbeak. “Want some?” he grinned.

Harry just pinched his nose and crossed his eyes.

“I’m not supposed to tell you this, but since you’re my only family now…” said Sirius, pulling
out a dead rat from the bag and feeding it to Buckbeak, “Dumbledore asked me to take a look at
what’s going on in Hogwarts.”

“Wow, you’ve been at Hogwarts? But..but that’s dangerous! What if you got caught?”

Instead of appreciating Harry’s concern for his safety, Sirius breathed and stared on ahead
sadly. “I thought you’d be happy I was allowed to get out of this rotten place after being
virtually imprisoned here for ages since Dumbledore accepted this house for the Order…”

“But I am – only that I don’t want you hurt out there without me…”

Sirius smiled this time. “Sorry about that, Harry, but I’m glad to know you really care.”

“Like you said, we’re the only ones left in this family.” Harry dusted off the floor beneath him
and sat down. “So what’s going on in Hogwarts now, Sirius?”

“It’s quite peaceful there, actually. Too peaceful. Hagrid thought he’d adopt me as a dog
because it was extremely lonely and quiet for him out there. I declined at once – you’ll never know
how I hate it when his Boarhound always got in position behind me.”

Harry laughed for a long time, and Sirius went along with him.

“The people I was supposed to watch, Fudge’s men, have already arrived at Hogwarts two days
ago,” divulged Sirius. Feeling Buckbeak’s impatience to taste another dead rat, he threw another
one at him. “I counted about fifteen, there could be more, and they aren’t a friendly lot from how
I look at them.”

“They’re there already?” said Harry, frowning. “But it’s still a few days away when we go back
to school.”

“Yeah, but I think they needed to study the Hogwarts grounds very well for whatever purpose they
might be in for. Probably they wanted to know where the possible hiding places are.”

“Do you recognize any of them, Sirius?”

“Not one, I’m afraid,” Sirius sighed. “I’ve been in Azkaban for too long. I won’t give them my
full confidence that one of them is clean. I’ve asked Dumbledore to allow me to stay at Hogwarts
and look after you when you go back. I can’t accept being stuck here and not doing at least
something to help keep you safe.”

“What’d he say?”

“Nothing, he just kept quiet about it, which maddens me a lot. He probably thinks I can’t take
care of myself out there – I feel like being treated like a little boy younger than you…”

“Maybe he just doesn’t want you to get hurt or something.”

“I don’t care what happens to me!” Sirius growled, making Harry jerk back a little out of
surprise. “We share the same concerns for you, and here I am, an Animagus, a very capable wizard
who isn’t afraid of Voldemort, cooped up in the attic with a Hippogriff most of the time. He should
be grateful to be relieved of some burden trying to protect you, but I feel like a liability
instead of a good asset…” Sirius paused for a while and sighed. “Great, now I sound like a
brat!”

“I know how you feel, Sirius,” soothed Harry, and patting his shoulder. “I think you just need
to ask him more than once – I think if you try enough he’ll give in, but I’m also guilty of
worrying about you being out there in the open…” Harry said that with an uneasy smile, hoping
Sirius wouldn’t get offended with the belief he shared with Dumbledore about him being much safer
when he’d stay in Grimmauld.

“Yeah, I think I’ll do that”

“But you don’t have to…”

“C’mon, Harry! I could use some excitement,” Sirius said, now laughing. “Nobody knows I’m a
lovable dog except you, your friends, the Weasleys, and Dumbledore – well, Snape, too after what
happened last year.”

“Tell you what, we’ll just worry about each other in Hogwarts and I think we’re even. But if
Dumbledore’s against it, I really have to ask you to obey him…”

“Yes, sir, Harry, sir!” said Sirius sarcastically, which Harry didn’t mind as long as he
expressed what he wanted his godfather to do. They both fell silent, watching Buckbeak smooth his
feathers with his beak.

“I’ve heard about your escapade at Xanthius, Harry,” Sirius said a little later, steering away
from the last subject. “All I can say is that I’m extremely impressed – and proud of you. I bet no
one’s supposed to ever get out of there.”

Harry smiled. “Well, if it weren’t for Hermione and her dragon, we wouldn’t’ve.”

“Yes, that was a fortunate coincidence she found a dragon that you’re said to have been
acquainted with,” Sirius laughed softly. “But it may not have happened if you haven’t stood your
ground against Voldemort, too. James and Lily would have been so proud of you if they were alive
today.”

“Yeah, and then I’d get grounded for a lifetime after that,” Harry joked and Sirius laughed.

“It’s always a great blessing when you have very faithful friends, like I had,” Sirius sighed.
“I do admire the friendship you’re sharing with Ron and Hermione. James also valued his friends
above all else, but you know the story about the feat of our *other* former friend that
separated all of us up in just one night…”

Upon hearing that, Harry felt instantly guilty. Sirius had noticed this at once.

“Anything wrong with what I said?”

“Oh, no, it’s perfectly okay, but…” he hesitated, “there’s something that happened between us
when you were away…” Harry was now glad he had someone to share about to ease the burden he had
carried on his shoulders during the last few days. He told Sirius about his attraction to Hermione
and how Ron had handled it lately. He also told Sirius about his decision to defer his intimate
desires with Hermione for the sake of the trio.

Sirius smiled slightly, looked at Harry a little more, and said, “I see nothing wrong with your
feelings – one of you had a good chance to get attracted to Hermione, after all the joys and pain
that you shared with each other these years. It’s not because I’m you’re Godfather and I’d always
side with you, Harry, but I agree Ron had over reacted. He got too mad he forgot about what you and
Hermione did for him all these years.” Sirius sighed again. “Worse, he did something that was
unacceptable, you know, like bugging your conversation with Hermione…I don’t like that thing
either.”

“So do you think I should ignore him from now on and just go on and do what I want?”

“No, Harry.” Sirius put a hand on Harry’s shoulder and said, “Harry, it’s a noble thing you did,
setting aside your personal desires temporarily for Hermione for the sake of the trio, as you call
it. If you ask me, since I know what you’ve been through together, I’d try to make friends with him
again. But you must still try to make him realize what he did was wrong about the eavesdropping
thing, well, without losing some of your teeth. He can’t control your and Hermione’s life by being
a spoiled brat. He should also learn how to respect you, as much as you respect him.”

“I’ve been thinking of the same thing,” Harry said. “I might forgive him for eavesdropping, but
I admit it’s easier said than done. He might just want to be angry with me for some time. Knowing
him, when he realizes he erred at the first place, he won’t readily admit it…”

“That’s the difference of making an enemy out of your best friend. It’s very humbling when you
say you’re sorry. The best condition for reconciling would be he’ll say sorry and you say sorry,
too. You’re even. Just try to have a talk with him if you can…if you don’t succeed at first, give
him some time before trying to talk with him again. He’ll give in eventually, though I don’t want
you to become the martyr or something…bad precedent, I say!”

“Yeah, thanks,” Harry exhaled and stood up from the floor. “I got to go and clean up - see you
around, Sirius…” He started on his way towards the door and reached for the knob.

“Harry…”

“Yes?” Harry said, looking back at Sirius.

“If we don’t see each other after this before you leave back for Hogwarts,” Sirius said slowly,
not facing Harry, “I have a package for you on your bed. Open and use it to call me if you need
me…and I’ll be there for you as fast as I can.”

“Okay,” Harry said. “Thanks.”

He got out of the door and headed downstairs towards his room. He didn’t know what was inside
the package, but if it was something that would put Sirius in extreme danger by going to his rescue
if he got into deep trouble, he knew he wouldn’t try to use it.

-o0o-

Harry had tried twice to talk with Ron about their problem towards the last day of their
Christmas vacation, but each time he did he was angrily rebuffed. Harry heeded Sirius’ advice about
giving it more time before he’d try to talk to him again, but Harry felt this has emboldened Ron
even more to refuse any conversation with him, and as a result, made him even madder with Ron. Ron
might have felt he was gaining the upper hand in their civil war because of his reconciliatory
moves, which was a bad thing, Harry thought.

Worse, Ron was also mad at Hermione for still going alone with Harry most the time, which also
made her extremely angry with him.

“Do you know what Ron wants me to do?” Hermione exploded over lunch with Harry one day.

“No,” Harry said, forgetting to swallow his soup, dripping some off to his chest. “Why, what did
he say?” He took out a napkin to wipe the stain on his shirt.

“He wants to me to stop talking to you, too, can you believe it?!? He doesn’t want to see us
both together anymore!”

“Really. Well, I can’t stop you if you…”

“Don’t be silly, Harry,” Hermione cut Harry off. “He refuses to even see your face. Naturally
I’d be the only friend you have right now while he’s on a tantrum that I’m the only one you feel at
ease talking to! If he keeps telling me to keep away from you and telling me what to do like a
king, he’ll find out who’s without friends someday! Oh, he’s got the nerve…”

“Hermione, you could still afford to be patient with Ron – I think he’s just too confused right
now.”

Hermione snorted. “He’s not being confused, Harry. He’s being a selfish oaf and a total jerk!
One more word from him like that and I don’t want to speak to him ever again!”

Ron did confront Hermione again, to his dismay. She read all of her course books just before
going back to Hogwarts just to forget about Ron completely. Ron, meanwhile, found a good reason to
bond even more with his brothers and Ginny, the only people who seemed to look indifferent to what
was going on between Harry, Hermione, and him. Not that they didn’t actually care; they were very
tired of Ron’s nightly talk with them about how sneaky Harry and Hermione was.

The night before they all went back to Hogwarts, Harry had received another letter from
Russelpunk (Harry had asked Dumbledore to give his letter to Russelpunk during one of his trips to
and from Hogwarts and he got a reply when Dumbledore had come back).

“He says he’s okay and he had not been sending letters to me all Christmas,” Harry said as
Hermione looked over his shoulder to read the letter, too, in Harry’s room. “But he’s eager to see
us when we get back. He says he has a lot of questions to ask us…”

“Then from whom were those letters the owls were carrying for?” asked Hermione. For days they
had counted at least ten owls just flying around in circles, failing to deliver the letters to
their recipients.

“I don’t know,” Harry said thinking and placing the letter back to its envelope. “Could it be
for Dumbledore from Fudge?”

“Possibly, but Dumbledore goes back and forth from here to Hogwarts everyday, doesn’t he? He
could get his letters from there.”

“Oh, yeah,” Harry realized. “How about Viktor Krum?”

Hermione suddenly felt uncomfortable hearing Harry say Krum’s name, though he mentioned him very
casually.

“I think I’ll find out if he was writing as soon as we get back to Hogwarts,” she said quickly.
Hermione sat on the center of what used to be Ron’s bed and pretended to inspect her toenails.

“Yeah, please do find out, will you?” said Harry, not sounding upset with a well-disguised tone
of voice. Harry now felt upset each time he heard Krum’s name even from himself, though he usually
succeeded in acting being relaxed about it. “I don’t know why I feel something’s wrong about those
owls…”

“It probably happens with other witches or wizards living in a place subjected to a Fidelius
Charm, too,” Hermione theorized absently. “It’s only the first time we’ve seen it, I think that’s
why you feel something’s wrong.”

“Ah, maybe you’re right,” Harry muttered, finally deciding to pack up his belongings after a few
days of putting it off. Harry took a look back at Hermione, who was still on Ron’s bed but now deep
in thought.

“Hermione, how’re your headaches?” he asked carefully.

“Oh, I still get them one to three times a day, so I haven’t stopped my medication. Why?”

Harry didn’t answer at once, though this was one of the things he wanted to talk to her about.
Madam Pomfrey would’ve disagreed with him, but he strongly felt Hermione needed to know what was
happening to her. They were going back to Hogwarts the next day and he didn’t want Hermione to look
silly in front of everybody when her memory lapses attacked in public, especially to Draco would be
unbearable to her then. She had to be aware of it, and maybe he could help her through it while it
lasts. So he told her everything.

Hermione became anxious when she learned about her real condition. Like Madam Pomfrey had
predicted, she didn’t seem to be concerned about her health but her chances to top the upcoming
O.W.L.s when she could forget about what she studied for.

“Harry, this is terrible!” she gasped. “Why didn’t you tell me before? I kept wondering why I
felt I’d read some books more than once already…”

“Madam Pomfrey didn’t want us to…she said it didn’t hurt you if you didn’t know about it, but I
quite disagree.”

“No wonder the days felt shorter than normal for me sometimes,” she said, holding her head with
both her hands and looking fretful. “Did she say I’m demented?”

“No, of course not, she said it’ll only be for weeks or a month,” he replied, and then he felt
he had made a mistake telling her about it. “Hermione, please, you must understand. I’m sorry I had
to bring this up to you, but I thought you had to know despite Madam Pomfrey’s warnings…”

“Harry, don’t worry, it’s okay! I’m really glad you told me…you’re right. I thank you for it.
Look at it this way - how can I help myself recover from this problem when I don’t even know I have
a problem, right?”

Harry glanced sideways and nodded his head. “Yeah, I guess that makes sense. Then I think it’s
best you should see Madam Pomfrey as soon as we get back to Hogwarts. Have her look at you, you
know. I’ll go with you if you want.”

“Of course, thanks,” Hermione said, smiling but looking anxious still. “Merlin’s beard – what if
I forget what I learned in the classroom, it’d be like being not in class at all! What if the
lessons turned out in the exam?” she wailed. “What if I didn’t notice it all? Harry, will you do
something for me?”

“Sure. What?”

“Please let me know when it attacks. I’ll ask you what happened before then, I might be able to
recall it. I could try.”

“Of course…but you know it upsets me each time I know it happens,” Harry said, which made
Hermione smile in appreciation for his concern again. “I just don’t know how that would help you
with your upcoming tasks at Hogwarts.”

“You mean what Dumbledore and Olga want me to do there? I don’t think it’ll be a problem, Harry.
I’ll just be telling them what I heard that’s suspicious, that’s all. I can’t tell them what I
don’t remember, right?”

“Maybe, but what if…”

Hermione waited for Harry to finish his sentence, but he just fell silent. “Yes, Harry?”

“Oh, nothing, I’m just being a little paranoid,” he said finally, laughing a bit, but his face
failed to hide his anxiety.

Hermione smiled, reached for his hand, and squeezed it reassuringly. Harry nodded in response
and pursed his lips – he frantically thought of a way to do something to take his mind off Hermione
or else he’d be kissing her in two minutes, counting.

He let go of Hermione’s hand as gently as he could and started to rearrange the folded clothes
he had already put in his suitcase (it definitely didn’t need any rearranging at all). A picture of
him, Ron, and Hermione taken during their second year fell out. Harry frowned, picked it up, and
buried it deeper in the stack of clothes out of disgust.

*“If you don’t want to be friends with us anymore, I don’t care!”* Harry thought
angrily.

Harry was so upset that he didn’t feel Hermione was already at the door. “Harry,” Hermione said,
“I think I should go back to my room before Mrs. Weasley finds me here alone with you…it’ll get
ugly when she does!” She peeked out of the corridor and when she saw it was clear, she moved
stealthily but briskly towards her room.

“See you tomorrow,” Harry whispered, “and thanks for seeing me.” Hermione nodded at him
anxiously, imploring to Harry to keep his voice down. Just as soon as she entered her room and
closed the door as quietly as she could, Mrs. Weasley’s door started opening. Harry quickly closed
his, and dove towards his bed, ready to pretend to be asleep if Molly checked up on him.

-o0o-

Arthur and Tonks were to escort Harry and the rest of the Hogwarts students in Grimmauld back to
school the next day. Ron wasn’t still speaking to Harry and Hermione when they ate breakfast
together, which was very awkward for them in front of everybody else.

Harry had noticed that Mrs. Weasley was looking non-enthusiastically towards Hermione, and to
some degree, at him, too. He didn’t have to wonder why at all. Last year, she had also been cold
towards Hermione when the rumor of her being Harry’s girlfriend surfaced in the Daily Prophet, and
Harry believed that Ron had already told his mum about the reason why they were fighting. Harry
didn’t want to predict how bad Molly would treat Hermione if they became more than just friends. It
wasn’t very comforting at all this early.

Harry gazed at Hermione, who was at the same snatching glances timidly towards Molly. She had
noticed Molly’s coolness towards her, too. Harry felt sorry for Hermione, and stirred his porridge
pensively while he blamed himself for probably causing this to her. He had assured Molly before the
Triwizard Tournament that Hermione wasn’t his girlfriend, but things have changed quickly in a
year. It was hard to accept for Harry that he had caused a lot of ill feelings between the people
he knew and cared because of his ever-growing attraction to Hermione, and this was the prime reason
he now had second thoughts about pursuing it. He felt bad about that, because it meant he couldn’t
decide on his own what to do for his life because he slightly feared what other people might think
about it, though he knew this wasn’t healthy, too…

It was like “me and Hermione against the world” for him, though for the Weasley’s world for now.
But wasn’t that often the reason how couples’ relationships get even stronger when they encounter
strong opposition? Harry didn’t know what to think – things were getting more and more
confusing.

At least Harry’s godfather showed opposite treatment towards him unlike Molly’s: when Sirius
said goodbye to everyone he made sure Molly and Ron saw him drag Harry and Hermione together into a
long three-way hug and kiss them. As for Ron, Sirius merely looked and nodded at him curtly without
saying a word, leaving Ron in the middle of the floor feeling uneasy. It was refreshing for Harry
to be reminded that Sirius was behind him and at least Ron also knew how it felt like when a person
he respected turned cool against him, like they were experiencing with Molly now.

Arthur, on the other hand, didn’t change his treatment towards everybody even though Molly had
told him Ron was angry with Harry and Hermione. He happily escorted all the Hogwarts students in
Grimmauld back to school with Tonks by chartering the Knight Bus under Dumbledore’s instructions.
After Harry had taken his seat, he remembered that when he came to Grimmauld in the Knight Bus from
the Burrow, he spent the whole trip on the top deck alone with Ron because he thought Hermione was
angry with them both. Now, it was actually the opposite. Ironically, *he and Hermione were*
*now alone together at the top deck because Ron was angry with them both.*

Hermione knew what was preoccupying Harry’s mind when he sat silently on the front row of the
bus, watching the light poles giving way for the bus and said, “Don’t worry about how Mrs. Weasley
looks at me, Harry, you didn’t do anything wrong.”

Harry wasn’t sure if it was one of her subtle messages about any hint of romance and chose to
keep quiet because he felt his heart would go under another tug-of-war.

After a few hours they reached the Hogwarts gates at the same time as the rest of the school had
arrived from Hogsmeade. There were a couple of wizards Harry didn’t know who looked like they were
guarding the gate. Upon seeing them disembark the Knight Bus, the new wizards approached them.

“Why didn’t you come in the Hogwarts Express like the rest of the school, boy?” one of them
inquired Harry while he helped Hermione with her luggage. The wizard was half a head taller than
him, had a white and cleanly cropped head of hair, and was wearing dark sunglasses and a
trenchcoat. He looked like a politician’s security detail than a wizard. The only thing missing was
a clear coil of cable just behind his ears.

“Uh,” Harry started, but Arthur had moved to his front.

“Hello, Horace,” said Arthur coolly. “Finally decided to soak your shoes today with the mud,
have you? Quite a departure from your usual clean office back at the bureau…”

So this was Horace Whipple, Fudge’s appointed administrator for Hogwarts security as they liked
to call it, Harry thought. The problem was, Fudge didn’t believe Horace was a probable Death Eater
also serving Voldemort like Olga had said. Harry and Hermione readily hated him. They surmised
Horace wasn’t supposed to man this post, but to lay in wait to make sure they met.

“Hello yourself, Arthur,” Horace said directly. “Do you realize they have violated, uh, Section
23 of the, uh, Second Article of the Revised Hogwarts Security Code, which states all students are
required to use the Hogwarts Express in order to go to and leave the premises? I had the impression
that you really think that they would be attacked by – Death Eaters - since nothing is *safer*
than taking the train. You don’t want Minister Fudge to know about this, do you? ”

Harry glared at Horace sharply. How dare he mock Mr. Weasley about having Death Eaters at
Hogwarts when he himself could be one?

Arthur simply took out a thick book from his bag, which was the only thing that it carried, and
waved it in front of Horace’s face.

“You mean, this, Horace?” Arthur said, unfazed with his challenge and ignoring Horace’s
statement about his boss, Cornelius Fudge. “The same so-called *revised* code states that any
person in authority of Hogwarts have the right to designate the most practical and efficient means
of transportation for the students aside from the Hogwarts Express in special circumstances. As
Albus Dumbledore is the top authority of Hogwarts, he cleared Harry Potter and his friends here of
using the Knight Bus*, in this special circumstance*, which is as safe and secure as the
Hogwarts Express itself. Section 71! Read about it if you want.” He handed Horace the book.

Horace, however, just looked on ahead statuesquely.

Arthur didn’t wait for any more argument coming from Horace and said, “Come along now,
everybody. I’m sure you’re all famished because of the trip…”

They passed by the stone-faced Horace without saying any word and walked up the stone steps
towards the Hogwarts castle. Ron obviously avoided Harry and Hermione by walking alongside the
twins a few yards behind.

Halfway towards the entrance, Hermione said, “Wow, Mr. Weasley, you really did your homework,
huh?” She pointed at the thick book Mr. Weasley was lugging and was impressed at his excellent
memory.

Arthur looked flattered. “I was hoping I didn’t ever need to say a single word to him at all
because he’s a Death Eater, Hermione,” he replied, “but he forced me by slamming a student,
especially Harry, with a quick charge. Imagine - you all just got here and he’s already making
accusations!”

Hermione nodded. “I haven’t seen that book on the new code before, do you have another copy of
it somewhere, Mr. Weasley, because I’d like to borrow and study it. I’d like to know about this
so-called code.”

“Sure, Hermione,” Arthur said, grinning. “You can have this book. It’s yours.”

“Thanks!” Hermione said happily. She didn’t open to read it all at once like she always did when
she was handed an interesting new book, and just carried it beside her as she walked up further the
steps.

Harry caught a glimpse of the book’s faded title printed along its spine, which read “The
Ultimate Guide for Magical Bird Watchers by Forsythe Fowl” and suppressed his laughter. Mr. Weasley
had made up his own argument front of Horace, who apparently didn’t know everything about this
so-called Security code he brought into play. Harry also couldn’t help but imagine the look on
Hermione’s face tonight when she opened the book. He laughed at last, bringing out a puzzled face
from her. Arthur just walked serenely along with them.

Further up the stone steps Harry saw more patrolling wizards who had the same features as
Horace. They all wore standardized haircuts and get ups, and Harry could not help but feel queasy
at the stomach. This just didn’t feel right for him, like Hogwarts was under some kind of
authoritarian rule, minus the Muggle tanks and guns. He wasn’t alone – most of the students looked
apprehensive with the new security measures designed to stifle any dissent against Fudge.

But he knew that it wasn’t the only reason why they were here. Knowing that Lucius had a hand
with the selection of Ministry Wizards sent to Hogwarts, they were here for some sinister reason.
Either if it was for Hogwart’s weakening in preparation for Voldemort’s possible attack, or all of
these were elaborate preparations for mainly finding the right conditions to snatch him for
Voldemort. Harry didn’t think they needed to bother. They could just get him anytime they
wanted.

“Mr. Weasley,” Harry hissed, “can’t Dumbledore really do anything to kick them all out of here?
They’re actually the threat rather than the…”

“I’m afraid not, Harry,” Mr. Weasley replied regretfully, feeling the urgency to answer Harry’s
question before they get within earshot of the wizards. Hermione was also listening in. “Fudge had
all the legal bases covered, and Dumbledore’s only responsibility is to oversee and issue
directives for the academics and sports of this school.”

Harry and Hermione groaned.

“I’m begging you to be very extra vigilant, Harry and Hermione,” Mr. Weasley continued, now
stopping to talk a little longer. (Ron also stopped but a few yards away from them, and looking
stern). “Be wary of their intentions, but at the same time, don’t make your studies suffer. You
need to keep learning what you can while the school year lasts. I know it’s difficult to
concentrate when you keep looking what’s behind you. Please don’t be reckless or careless. They’re
here for…”

“Move along, now,” said one of the Ministry Wizards, who had approached them while they were
busy talking. “No huddling for more than three people. You can read that rule posted at the main
bulletin board. Sir, if you intend to enter the castle, you need to secure an appointment with the
Administrator. Thank you.”

Mr. Weasley didn’t say anything, and just shook hands with Harry and kissed Hermione. “That’s
one of the rules, too,” Mr. Weasley said, sighing. “We’ll try to keep checking on you as much as we
can, and be extra, extra careful Hermione – and especially you, Harry.”

They both nodded and Mr. Weasley walked over to Ron, the twins, and Ginny to say goodbye to them
all with a hug. When Ron had broken away from his dad, Harry and Hermione had met his eyes, but he
looked at them very coolly and went off towards the castle as if his best friends were
strangers.

“C’mon, Hermione, let’s have something to eat…” Harry said sadly, looking at the back of Ron,
who was now way ahead of them. “I can’t help but think we’re gonna just have to rely on ourselves
without Ron, just to survive whatever’s coming with all these Death Eaters walking loose.”

“Yeah, we’ll watch each other’s backs whatever it takes, right Harry?” she replied anxiously,
and on instinct they just went into a friendly and reassuring embrace, which fortunately Ron had
not noticed otherwise he would have misinterpreted it again to fuel his new obsession. “It’s the
first time I’m feeling scared about all this – I thought I won’t…until now.”

They looked around. The sight of more wizards had an ominous feeling for him and Hermione. The
last time that Death Eaters were in Hogwarts was a few weeks ago, and for Hermione it was nothing
like compared to this. They knew they had to expect a much difficult time for them in the days and
weeks ahead. Hermione felt an odd feeling that the Wizards would just manifest themselves finally
as Death Eaters whenever they wanted and surround both her and Harry for whatever purpose they were
sent here for. They now shared the mutual duty of looking after each other in these dangerous
times.

Harry and Hermione knew the trio would have been their best chance for protection against the
threat of the Death Eaters, now more than ever. Unfortunately, Ron now didn’t seem to appreciate
that any longer.

-o0o-

*(This is simply the longest chapter yet. I hope this chapter wasn’t too long!)*

*Next Chapter will be posted as soon as it’s ready…please keep checking back for updates.
Thanks.*



12. State of Emergency
----------------------

*Author’s note: I’m releasing this chapter in its raw format, meaning this hasn’t been edited
yet and may contain errors, which I will eventually fix. I’ve decided to do this because I didn’t
want readers to wait for the next chapters longer than necessary, as what has happened. I just
didn’t have the leisure to keep writing for some time because of the demands of my job, (groan) but
I hope things will change in this week and I’ll find the time to dedicate writing…*

*Sorry for the long delay, folks! Thank you. I’ll try to be prompt next time.*

*Thanks, PottersPrincess, for your review.*

**Update:** ***This chapter has now been fixed of errors**.*

**Chapter 11**

State of Emergency

The annual post-New Year’s feast usually generated excitement among the student body of Hogwarts
each year when they came back from their holidays. It was intended to lessen the post-Christmas
blues for those who still wished it wasn’t school yet, but since almost all of the students had not
known about Cornelius Fudge’s real purpose of sending in wizards from the Ministry to provide
security to Hogwarts, the feeling throughout the Great Hall for the evening was of confusion and
anxiety. Harry and Hermione could tell what was going on in their schoolmates’ minds right now by
merely looking at their faces.

Nobody seemed keen to smile tonight, except of course Draco and his cronies, which was not at
all surprising. Almost everyone was talking in hushed voices, most likely discussing their theories
about why these stern-looking wizards wearing sunglasses at night and having uniform haircuts and
coats were here, who were looking snappy at attention and standing against the walls of the Great
Hall. Dumbledore and the rest of the Hogwarts teachers were seated around the teachers’ table.
Neither of them was smiling nor were they talking to each other. They just scanned the Hall with
their eyes while they ate their dinner. Only Professor Russelpunk kept turning his head to look
around. He had obviously no clue what was going on.

“Happy homecoming, it is,” said Harry sarcastically over his uneaten supper. “What a way to
start the New Year!” The tables were overflowing with well-prepared and decorated food, but he
didn’t have the appetite. Hermione was hungry, although she ate slower than her usual manner, which
was already slow to begin with. Most students, however, were distracted by the delectable dishes
arrayed in front of them and seemed to only mind their stomachs and ate away anyway especially Ron,
who was talking to Lee Jordan with his mouth full.

“Those wizards’re keep giving me the creeps,” Hermione shuddered, looking around. “Especially
Malfoy – he’s been looking at you all evening!”

Harry gave Draco a quick look, who was staring back at him like he was the king of the
world.

“What’re you looking at?” Harry mouthed at him, scowling. Draco appeared to have gotten more
enjoyment out of it and smirked even wider. Harry felt Hermione’s hand grasp his arm.

Still feeling angry with Draco, Harry snapped his head at Hermione. “What?” he growled.

“What did you do that for?” she hissed. “You should have just looked away after you saw him. He
now thinks he’s getting on your mind…”

“Yeah, thanks for telling me about Draco in the first place, Hermione,” Harry said touchily, and
angrily tossed his dinner around on his plate.

“You’re welcome,” she said, a little hurt. But after a few moments of awkward silence between
the two of them, Hermione smiled and said, “You know you look cute when you’re angry…”

Harry didn’t fully catch what she said, and slowly looked back at her. “What did you say?”

“Oh, nothing,” Hermione said quickly, and offered him a spoonful of mashed potatoes, which he
declined.

“Oh, c’mon, Harry, you need to eat – I don’t remember you putting something on your mouth the
whole afternoon, you’ll starve tonight!”

“I’m not hungry,” Harry said flatly, and pushed his plate away from him. Hermione rolled her
eyes.

Harry felt a strong sense of unease brought about by the presence of the wizards tonight. Their
physical presence didn’t bother him more than not knowing what their true intentions were for
invading Hogwarts like this. A part of Harry refused to believe they were there for the sole
purpose of kidnapping him for Voldemort. They could just as well snatch him right now in front of
everybody if they wanted to. What was it were they waiting for?

*Oh - Dumbledore.* They couldn’t do it while he was around. But earlier the wizards had met
him at the grounds, and it was their perfect opportunity and they didn’t strike. It didn’t make
sense to Harry at all. There was probably another reason why they were here, and he was almost sure
it was to try to weaken Hogwarts again after their last foiled attempt.

As soon as everyone had finished eating their desserts, the sound of talk died down when the
students saw Dumbledore rise up from his chair and motioned to everyone for their attention.

“Students and Faculty,” he started speaking, “I welcome you back to Hogwarts after an - exciting
– Christmas. I do hope you found your vacation peaceful, despite some significant events during
that time that you may be aware of or not…”

Harry surmised Dumbledore was being cryptic, trying to feel if anyone was aware of the attacks
that happened during the holidays after the initial murders. He looked around, and saw that almost
nobody reacted to Dumbledore’s statement (only the Weasleys scanned the Great Hall with their eyes
to observe everybody else), meaning that the Ministry of Magic had miraculously managed to keep the
attacks under wraps. How, Harry had no idea, but they succeeded.

“As you have noticed, we have some wizards sent in by the current Ministry of Magic, Cornelius
Fudge, who will be stationed at the school indefinitely. I find it unnecessary for my part to tell
you their purpose of being here, as the head of the contingent, Horace Whipple from the Ministry,
has asked for some time to address the school to explain why they are here. So, I give the floor to
Horace Whipple…”

Dumbledore gave Whipple, who was standing at the Great Hall’s entrance, a courteous wave towards
the podium at the center-front of the Hallway, and the wizard walked towards it silently. Nobody
had thought of clapping their hands, and all everyone could hear was the thundering snaps of
Whipple’s boots as he walked the central aisle. He had reached the podium and faced the student
body, not bothering to remove his dark sunglasses and starting his speech with some lengthy
introduction. He chose to go straight to the point.

“Good evening. We’ve been sent here by Minister Fudge to oversee security for Hogwarts. Of
course, we’re not here because of some people’s wild imagination that He-Who-Must-Be-Named has
returned, which, I assure you, is truly a lie. However, there is unrest among the wizard populace
who are divided between believing such rumors of the Dark Lord’s return and not, and we have
reliable information since before your vacation, that some groups are seeking to overthrow the
present wizard government headed by Minister Fudge through violent means because they believe the
Minister is not doing anything at all to address the ‘problem’ of the Dark Lord’s supposed
return.”

Hermione faced and Harry and hissed, “Now that’s something new…nobody, not even Dumbledore had
mentioned of any coup plots…”

“Because of the looming crisis of imminent dissent that is brewing in our society, the Minister
of Magic has declared a state of emergency for fifteen to thirty days starting tomorrow, which was
approved unanimously by the governing council. The reason for the declaration of this state will be
published on the Daily Prophet tomorrow, and everybody here will be receiving his own free copy,
courtesy of the Ministry.”

Excited and nervous talk rang throughout the Great Hall. A state of emergency meant that the
Ministry of Magic could just arrest anyone in suspicion of something, and Harry and Hermione knew
this was not declared because of Voldemort’s return, but just to save Fudge’s own butt. Dumbledore
and the rest of the teachers looked grim. Fudge apparently was getting mad of his power as Minister
of Magic, and he was beginning to get dictatorial.

Whipple didn’t wait for the talk to die down and returned to his speech.

“The Minister of Magic is working hard in his power to quash all these rumors, but rest assured,
it is solely for the good of the Wizard World. Of course, as you know, such remarks in reference to
Lord V-v-v-…You-Know-Who’s supposed return made by either influential or common folks like us can
be very destabilizing, which is happening as we speak. Such rumors, however small, will be left to
fester and will eventually become false fact if the Minister does nothing to stop it. It is a valid
cause for the Wizard World to be plunged into chaos and anarchy if the destablilizers are left to
foment revolution, taking advantage of the state of division among the populace brought about these
rumors. The Minister recognizes the effects and consequences of inaction for the wizarding world
and he hopes you appreciate the dangers, too.”

Harry heard Ron say, “I know the real danger – Fudge getting out of hand and expecting us to
kiss his pinky ring soon!” For once, Harry silently agreed with Ron, even though they weren’t back
into speaking terms.

“…I know that some of you are too young to understand the seriousness of the present state of
affairs in the wizard world, but the Ministry acknowledges the dangers of some opportunists who
might share the sinister plans to topple the government to try to gain your support through your
education. Therefore I urge you not to give in to them and if you think you are being brainwashed
by anyone into joining up groups or to speak up against the Minister of Magic, and/or saying that
You-Know-Who has actually returned, or spreading stories about the popular ‘Fortress of Evil’ as
many call them, even if they are your teachers or classmates, to please report them immediately to
any of the wizards wearing the same uniform as I am. We will act at once and arrest them. You will
be given recognition for your contribution to the stability of the wizard world, and we will
protect you from retribution from their supporters...”

“I bet Fudge coined that name, Fortress of Evil!” hissed Harry to Hermione, and she nodded back
impatiently.

“We will stay here as long as necessary until the situation returns to normal or the Minister
lifts the state of emergency. We have been given the power to issue rules and regulations to
enforce any measures to prevent any form of dissent from happening within Hogwarts. I assure you
this will only be temporary, and you have nothing to fear unless you are harboring desires to speak
out against the Minister and his policies, or known to spread lies of You-Know-Who’s return, or are
planning to form a group to fight against him. For starters, unless otherwise authorized, no one
more than two must be seen together. Any group of three people will be considered a ‘faction’ and
will be detained for questioning and possibly charged of organizing a rebellion.”

Harry looked back at Hermione and said, “Now that’s too much…” Hermione nodded her head again
and watched Horace Whipple severely.

“Existing clubs are temporarily disbanded. Requests for reconstitution shall be entertained and
will be considered in a case to case basis. However, all meetings of such approved groups will be
monitored by a representative from our security contingent. Quidditch teams are exempt from the
disbandment, but are not authorized to hold meetings without the presence of a security
representative. All prefects will be deputized to enforce the rules, and they will have a meeting
after this at the prefects’ conference room. Every student has the obligation to know the rules we
will be issuing, and you are urged to check on the bulletin boards regularly to be aware of the new
ones. Ignorance will not excuse anyone. Curfew hours start at nine in the evening up to six the
next morning. Those serving detention must request for clearance cards and should wear them.”

Horace arrogantly didn’t thank Dumbledore of being given the opportunity to speak to the student
body, and left the podium back to where he came from earlier. When Dumbledore spoke again, Harry
detected unpleasantness in his voice.

“Classes will begin at the usual time tomorrow,” he said with a noticeable frown on his face.
“Good evening to all…”

Harry could hear moaning and groaning from the students who were standing up from their chairs.
What they apparently didn’t like was the two-person rule being imposed on them and they will surely
miss the fun of being in a large group. But they had no choice but to follow the new rules – they
didn’t know what the wizards will do to them if they didn’t. Harry initially thought at first that
it was a blessing Ron wasn’t speaking to him and Hermione nowadays because he’d be having a hard
time adjusting not being a trio, but it was such a bad thought in itself. He knew he’ll find it
weird of not being a trio anymore, and he was sure Hermione was feeling the same way. At least, for
the time being, they would be safe from this new rule.

Harry and Hermione didn’t stand up at once and chose to be among the last ones to leave the
Great Hall. Remembering about Whipple’s remarks about deputizing prefects, he said, “Hermione, I
hope you won’t love being one of them…” and pointed at one of the wizards.

“Are you kidding?” she said, looking shocked. “Now I’m beginning to hate being a prefect because
of this – everybody might think we’re going to get power hungry…”

“Worse, Malfoy’s a prefect,” said Harry gloomily. “He’ll be unbearable!”

Just then, Professor McGonagall tapped her finger on Harry’s shoulder.

“Oh, sorry, Professor,” Harry said, startled. “We were just about to…”

“I’m not here to tell you off, Potter,” she interrupted. “We need to talk after this, regarding
you detention. Meet me in my office after thirty minutes, okay?”

Harry nodded and she smiled, leaving Harry and Hermione behind.

“Well, I gotta go to the meeting, Harry,” Hermione said. “I don’t want to know what they’ll do
to me if I’m late…take care!”

“Yeah, you, too. See you later,” Harry replied, and waved her goodbye gently. Hermione ran off
through the slow-moving crowd trying to get out the Great Hall. Harry finally stood up after a
moment and when he had almost reached the doors towards the corridors a little later, he heard some
exasperated calls from wizards who were at a loss how to manage the flow of human traffic just
clear of the Great Hall.

“Disperse! Disperse immediately!” said a wizard. “Remember the two-man rule!”

Harry suppressed a laugh. Naturally there would be a crowd when everyone wanted to get out of
the Great Hall first. He was hoping that each new rule that they would make up will make it more
stressful for the wizards to enforce. One thing that made Harry think he had made a mistake
choosing to be among the last to get out was overhearing Zacharias Smith talk with his
classmates.

“It’s a good thing Minister Fudge thought of this to plug the talk of some Dark Fortress,”
Zacharias said pompously to the clearly miffed Hannah Abbot and Ernie McMillan. “All these rumors
about it make me want to throw up – it’s getting out of hand! Especially from Potter – he thinks
everybody wants to believe him…”

Harry didn’t know what caused Zacharias Smith to trip without any sign of obstruction around…he
just felt extremely angry with him just at the same time. Zacharias grimaced in pain as he stood up
and rubbed his two knees from hitting the floor.

Finally out in the corridor with nothing to do, Harry navigated himself towards McGonagall’s
office for their meeting. He wondered what he’d be doing for detention and for how long. Just at
the end of an adjacent hallway void of other students near the doors to the prefect’s conference
room, he caught sight of Hermione’s recognizable back as she stood listening to a couple of wizards
who were talking to her in private. Harry stopped at distance and watched them. Hermione kept on
nodding while the wizards kept talking to her.

Harry scowled. “Now, what’re they telling her to do?” he thought.

Even though the wizards seemingly looked the same, Harry could still tell them apart from the
others because of their facial features. The one with the nasty scar across his face, Harry named
“Blinky”. The other with the gold eye patch, he christened as “Dinky”. Soon after, they ended their
conversation with Hermione. One of wizards from the conference room had called them in – the
meeting was about to start. Harry caught a glimpse of Hermione’s face as she turned to walk away
from the wizards, and she appeared to look serious (she didn’t see Harry at the far end of the
hallway). Hermione looked startled when the wizard from the room called her in again. She hurriedly
entered the conference room looking embarrassed, and the door closed.

Harry sighed. He thought she was just feeling too uneasy being near around the strange wizards,
like she had said so many times tonight, and she didn’t know how to act like herself and do her job
like she used to. Or perhaps she was getting too edgy being aware of doing her little task for Olga
and Dumbledore. If she kept on being like this, she’ll blow her cover even without batting an
eyelash. Harry made a mental note to teach her how to relax and how to act like a real spy. Harry
shrugged it off and walked towards McGonagall’s office.

The corridor near McGonagall’s office didn’t have a bench to sit on, and Harry’s feet began to
ache with all the standing as he waited for the next few remaining minutes. He remembered that
McGonagall had an ante-room in her office with some seats. His feet felt tired and he decided to
get in and wait there instead of being outside the corridor. Silently, he opened the door and shut
it, and chose one of the comfy chairs to sit on. He was glad he had remembered the chairs, because
he felt relieved just as he sat on one. The door connecting McGonagall’s office was slightly open,
and Harry could hear her talk to Dumbledore.

*Dumbledore can’t be here…*he thought.

“But that’s just terrible, Albus!” McGonagall wailed. “They can’t do this to her…and to the
people we knew who could help us…”

“I’m afraid they had already sent out the warrants, Minerva,” Dumbledore said softly.

*“Warrants?* *Who’s being arrested?”* Harry asked himself. Intrigued, he tiptoed
nearer towards the door to listen in much closely to the conversation.

“…This so called ‘State of Emergency’ is giving Cornelius a free hand to do what he wants. I’m
certain that it’s not because he’d realized the truth of Voldemort’s return. It’s just to save his
very own job. I can’t believe he’s turning out to be like this. He never told me he and the
governing council have been mulling over such measures at all. I find Whipple’s announcement
tonight quite shocking, to say the least. There is obviously an unseen hand behind this…”

“Lucius Malfoy?” McGonagall asked.

“Very much possible…”

“But why’s he doing this? Have you figured it out already?”

“Like I said before back in Grimmauld, it could be to snatch Harry out of our protection and
bring him to Lord Voldemort. I find no other logical reason for all these elaborate efforts. He
failed the first time to do him in even though Harry was already in their grasp, so it’s just
natural they want to do it again without the Ministry’s suspicion. He deftly came out of his recent
disgrace due to the Chadron case to regain Fudge’s full trust. I don’t know how he did it, but he
succeeded and Fudge now doesn’t listen to anyone else other than Lucius…”

“Imperius Curse?”

Dumbledore paused for a moment and said, “Possibly, but not the most probable. It wouldn’t help
Lucius at all if he chose to do the curse, because Fudge would then know what Lucius true
intentions were when he’d be free of the Imperius Curse – it’s not always a constant thing to be
under it. Think of Barty Crouch.”

“But to go through all the lengths just to get Harry,” McGonagall said, sounding incredulous,
“there must be some other reason why they are all here…”

“Harry’s keen on that, too, actually,” replied Dumbledore calmly. “He thinks it’s to weaken
Hogwarts to help Lord Voldemort destroy it. I think that’s a valid plot, too. Remember they also
failed to do that the last time by knocking us both out of action for days – they may want to try
again.”

“I guess that’s the real purpose why they’re so aggressive here, Albus. Harry’s abduction could
only be secondary…”

“Or it’s the other way around, Minerva. Have you arranged for Harry’s bodyguard already?”

*Bodyguard?* Harry almost snorted, but luckily he had stifled it just in time. He didn’t
know how Dumbledore could have forgotten what they talked about in Grimmauld.

“It’s proving to be difficult. All the teachers are too busy with their lesson plans, and
Severus flatly refuses to be his nanny. I might request the Ministry for an extra wizard to do the
job…”

“Too dangerous, Minerva,” Dumbledore interrupted. “The Ministry’s too infiltrated with Death
Eaters, we don’t know who to trust. Lucius might know about this and influence Fudge with the
selection of such a bodyguard. It would be a godsend for him, I’m sure, because it’ll make his job
easier if his intentions are to get Harry. On the other hand, I know Fudge won’t permit it if he
acted on his own conscience. It’ll look too intriguing especially from the press why Harry has to
have his own bodyguard – he doesn’t want that to happen.”

“Okay, how about Kingsley?”

“I’ve thought of that, too,” Dumbledore sighed. “But Arthur needs all the help he could get from
inside the Ministry. Pudmore has a lot on his hands at the moment. Besides, pulling out Kingsley or
Podmore will blow their cover…”

“Just leave it to me to think of a way to keep a lookout for Harry, Albus,” McGonagall said
resignedly. “But I don’t like the midnight warrants at all…”

“You’re not the only one. I can’t help but think who Fudge might want next, so let’s watch what
we do and don’t do anything to give him some reason to arrest us. I’m sure he wants to get back at
us after that unpleasant meeting here in my office…”

“I’ll share it to some of the teachers, Albus,” McGonagall breathed. “I think it’s time for my
meeting with Harry – I expect he’ll be here any moment.”

“Not too harsh – just make sure he serves detention without exposing him to danger. You have my
full trust, Minerva…”

Harry heard a popping noise and a chair being dragged on the floor. McGonagall might be standing
up to get out. He hurriedly went back to the first door and pulled it open behind him, as if he had
just come in. At the same moment, McGonagall alighted from her office.

“Ah, Mr. Potter, you’re here,” she said. She apparently had no idea Harry had been around long
enough to eavesdrop. “Come to my office now.”

Harry nodded, followed her inside the office silently, and sat on the guest chair.

“I’m sure you are aware why you’re given detention, Mr. Potter?” she asked, sitting down behind
her desk.

Harry nodded again.

“Good. You are to scrub all the boy’s bathrooms each night until they are clean – without
magic.”

Harry dropped his jaw. “All of them?”

“I’m afraid all sixteen of them, Mr. Pottter,” McGonagall confirmed sternly. “But since you have
done extra good work outside of school during your vacation, like saving your best friend from
possible death, the Headmaster has cut the number down to half. Feel fortunate…”

Harry still groaned. Each bathroom was still too big for him to finish for one night of
scrubbing. McGonagall handed Harry a piece of blank parchment.

“Sign here,” she instructed Harry, pointing at a space just beside her name and signature.

“What’s this for?” Harry asked.

“Added red tape,” McGonagall sighed. “It’s a request for detention pass as required by the
security administration…”

“Do we really need to do this?” Harry said, sounding a little angry.

“I’m afraid so, Potter,” she replied, looking miffed herself.

“I thought you’re the only authority here in Hogwarts beside the Headmaster…you can’t just waive
it to follow these wizards silly rules!”

“There’s no need to argue over that, Mr. Potter,” McGonagall snapped. “That has been fully
discussed in our prior meetings with the faculty and we found that we couldn’t do anything about
it. Minister Fudge unfortunately has the blessing of the school governors for such measures, even
though they are almost divided with it. He had enough votes to give him the power to dictate over
us. So speaking out against the rules will only give you so much trouble. Sign.”

Harry didn’t say anything else and signed the paper begrudgingly.

When McGonagall retrieved the parchment, she said, “That’s fine. I won’t ask you to hand this in
yourself to the administrator, so I’ll just do it for you.”

“Thank you, Professor,” said Harry.

“You’re welcome. Just get your I.D. pass from me tomorrow before you serve detention. Is there
something else you need to talk about?”

Harry paused for a moment before answering. He thought of asking her not to bother looking for a
bodyguard for him because he thought he’ll look very silly with Malfoy, but decided against it.
It’ll just reveal to McGonagall that he had been listening in to her conversation with Dumbledore.
Harry finally shook his head.

“Very well,” she said, looking satisfied. “But before you go, I need to ask you to be extra
careful when you walk around Hogwarts. You know why, don’t you?”

“Yes, Professor,” he replied. “But I don’t think they’re here because of me – it’s just
ridiculous…”

“I don’t find the threat on you ridiculous, Potter…”

Harry acted as if he didn’t hear McGonagall talk and said, “They’re here to destroy Hogwarts,
plain and simple.”

“It won’t hurt to assume they’re here for you…”

“It does! I think we’re all getting paranoid with everything that’s happening around here! Can’t
you see? I’ll look silly with a bodyguard around…” Harry stopped talking abruptly and gulped.

McGonagall narrowed her eyes, which made Harry feel afraid she’d make the number of bathrooms to
thirty two because he inadvertently revealed to her that he had been eavesdropping. But to his
surprise, she pushed his offense aside.

“I might have known you haven’t changed at all, Harry,” she said. “What’s done is done, and I
won’t charge you for it – for now - because you needed to know about it anyway, but I have to tell
you it’s wrong to invade other people’s privacy. I could slap you with more menial detentions if I
wanted to but you have already suffered enough to start with…”

“Sorry, about that, Professor – I just couldn’t help it.”

“Feel lucky I’m not in a bad mood tonight…now back to the subject. The Headmaster has deemed it
necessary to provide you with close-in security…”

“I don’t want it.”

“…in light of the dangers posed with the presence of the wizards in Hogwarts, which purpose we
have no clue of…”

“I can take care of myself, thanks…”

“Damn it, Potter,” McGonagall said, slamming her palm on her tabletop, and leaning closer over
to Harry. “Please try to appreciate the effort we’re making to ensure your safety! Think of the
concern we have for you – not all students have such privilege like the attention you’re getting
from us faculty members….”

“I don’t want to sound ungrateful at all, Professor,” Harry said slowly, “but I’ll certainly
look like a sissy, especially for Malfoy – he’ll have a field day…”

“There’s no room for childish concerns now, Potter. I believe having your own bodyguard
especially what happened to you the last time, and now apparently being around wizards who might be
Death Eaters working secretly for You-Know-Who who might try to get you…”

“Do you really think they’re all Death Eaters, Professor?”

“Not all of them, Potter, but the problem is right now we’re not sure who among them are clean
and are Death Eaters. We used to think all but two of them are really Death Eaters, but we’re now
changing it. Maybe half or two-thirds are, we don’t know. But you’re right. It’s safest to assume
they all are. But don’t try to change the subject – we’re talking about getting you a
bodyguard…”

“…which I don’t think is a good idea…”

McGonagall sank back on her chair and closed her eyes, feeling the conversation is just going
around in circles. She eventually opened them again after feeling she was calming down again.
“Harry,” she said, leaning closer again, “look, there’s no need to argue about it anyway because
we’re actually having problems looking for someone to look after you.”

“Thank heavens!”

“Okay, let’s not call someone looking after you a ‘bodyguard’ for once. You need – someone – who
doesn’t look like your close-in security - or a nanny for instance. But we need to know how you are
as much as possible. We won’t forgive ourselves if you find yourself suddenly in You-Know-What
again if that’s where you’ll really end up. Do you understand what I’m trying to say?”

Harry felt a negotiation coming – some kind of a compromise. “Okay, I’m listening…”

“Ron Weasley.”

Harry shook his head. “Actually, Professor Dumbledore had originally planned for Ron and
Hermione and I to look after each other, but Ron probably can’t help right now – we’re having
problems between us friends, and he won’t talk to us anymore.”

McGonagall narrowed her eyes. She knew this was not a good situation, having heard about
Dumbledore’s view of how vital their bond with Hermione was for their survival against Voldemort.
It wasn’t proven yet, but it was apparently all they had for the moment. She didn’t push the
subject much further, opting to discuss it with Dumbledore soon. “Okay, I won’t intervene…you
resolve your problems yourselves, hopefully soon. So that leaves Hermione Granger. Do you think she
could at least help us?”

Harry thought deeply and soon nodded his head slowly. “If you think it’s okay…if she agrees -
but I don’t want to refer to her as my bodyguard. She’s my best friend. In fact, we’ve already
agreed to look after each other when just this evening…”

“Granted. I’ll talk to her about it. I won’t use the word ‘bodyguard’, but I’ll just ask her to
be more serious about your deal. I’m sure she’s capable of helping us with your safety. Since she’s
a prefect, I’d have to ask Administrator Whipple to lessen her patrol duties to have more time with
you. I think he won’t mind, as I agree it’s nothing peculiar to have a classmate with you as much
as possible rather than a different person altogether. We’ll see how we could pry her loose…”

“But there’s only one thing, Professor – it’ll add to her workload. Do you know what Olga wants
her to do while we’re here other than the usual schoolwork and her prefect duties?”

“I’m aware of it, but the thing Olga has asked her to do is not so demanding at all. She’ll just
relay anything what she actually hears. Nothing more. I’m sure it won’t get in the way.”

Harry gratefully nodded. He didn’t have to add the fact that Hermione was suffering from random
fits of ‘mild dementia’. He was already happy to be spared the embarrassment of having a bodyguard
with him all the time in front of the whole school.

“Very good,” McGonagall said finally. “You’re dismissed – and Mr. Potter – please be careful out
there? I beg you…”

-o0o-

It was nearing nine in the evening, which meant that the newly imposed curfew was about to
start. Harry walked along the dark halls towards the Gryffindor tower, and for the first time he
felt the hair on his back stand up when he wondered what was behind him. He kept looking back
behind him – the teachers’ fears of danger lurking at every corner with the wizards in Hogwarts was
proving to be contagious, and it didn’t feel good at all for Harry.

“Move along, now,” said a wizard who was stationed in this part of Hogwarts, and Harry literally
jumped a foot in the air. “You don’t want to get caught in the curfew…”

Harry nodded nervously and moved a little faster, and when he rounded the corner to another
hallway, he saw in the middle of it someone hovering over the floor, making him yelp.

“Professor Russelpunk!” Harry breathed, and clutching his chest. “You almost gave me a heart
attack!”

Russelpunk laughed nervously. “Sorry about that, Harry,” he said, landing back on the floor.
“What’re you doing here this time of night?”

“I was going back to – wait a minute…did I just see you levitate?”

“Oh…oh yeah, I can do that, actually – second nature…” he said edgily.

“What were you doing in mid-air at a time like this?”

“Just hovering around the hallway – nothing wrong with that, right? I just like to do it when,
uhm, nobody’s looking.” Russelpunk smiled quickly and shrugged.

“Wow, that’s amazing – you actually know how to levitate…”

“Harry, thanks again for the lesson ideas,” Russelpunk said evasively. “Can we talk about them
further tomorrow? I need to ask some more details about the spells you listed…”

Harry nodded. “Sure…”

“Splendid! Good night…” Russelpunk didn’t wait for Harry to answer back and walked off out of
sight quickly.

Harry found his behaviour quite strange, and looked around to observe what part of Hogwarts he
was in and why Russelpunk was hovering around here. He took out his wand, looked around if to make
sure nobody was around, and muttered “*Lumos**!*”

From what he could see as possible by the narrow beam of light from his wand, there were some
classrooms nearby and the only other rooms around were Filch’s storage room for confiscated items
and what seemed to be a new office provided for the Assistant Administrator, whose name of Henry
Seymour was written on the sign at the door. Other than these, Harry found nothing of interest yet
and put this little encounter aside for the moment because it was very dark in the hallway and it
was almost nine in the evening. It was hard to make everything out with the limitation of his wand
light. Most importantly, he had to make it to the Gryffindor tower on time. So he ran.

When Harry had gotten in the common room panting, Hermione was sitting by the fireplace and she
looked anxious.

“Hermione, is something wrong?” he asked.

“Thank God you’re back!” she said, looking relieved when she saw Harry. “I was getting so
worried about you – they said you haven’t been here since after dinner and I thought the wizards
had caught you wandering around at curfew…”

“Sorry, but I had a long conversation with McGonagall and…I bumped into Russelpunk on the way.
Listen…”

Making sure no one was around, Harry told Hermione everything he learned tonight, including all
the details of his talk with McGonagall and how he felt about Russelpunk’s strange activities.

“When we’ll have the time, we got to look and see what’s around that place,” Hermione said after
Harry had finished. “He could just be satisfying some kind of obsession, but we won’t lose anything
if we just look around more closely…”

“I don’t think Russelpunk’s on to something, though,” Harry believed. “He might have just been
practicing in secret – that part of Hogwarts is the most secluded…”

“I agree, but I admit it’s just strange he was so evasive about his talents,” Hermione sighed.
“I mean, self levitation is a rare gift – he should be proud of it. So, any ideas what Dumbledore
meant about those warrants?”

Harry shook his head. “It’s the part that I missed, and I don’t know what warrants they were
talking about and for whom they were for. They could be search or arrest warrants – I’m not sure.
But they were agitated about it, though. Maybe it was for someone – a she - they knew too well who
Fudge’s trying to pin down.”

Hermione merely nodded her head and didn’t say anything. She was hoping they weren’t referring
to Olga, but she couldn’t help but think she was the most likely person Dumbledore and McGonagall
were talking about.

“Harry, I really don’t mind at all,” Hermione said slowly.

“About what?” Harry said, puzzled of what Hermione was trying to say.

“You know, if McGonagall wants me to have the extra work looking after you…”

Harry pursed his lips and looked at the fireplace. He just didn’t like feeling being a kid who
had to be looked after at all, especially when it involved his best friend. He refused to use the
word “bodyguard”.

“Are you forgetting something?” Harry asked Hermione a little later with a forced smile. “Didn’t
we just agree to look after each other a few hours ago?”

Hermione nodded and laughed softly. “Yeah, sorry – of course, and if that’s what you want,
that’s what we’ll do. Only that I just don’t think I’m being targeted at all - you’re the obvious
one.”

“I don’t think that’s entirely true, Hermione,” Harry said gently. “Even Dumbledore thinks
you’re not safe as you think you are. That night during the attack at the Burrow – he said
Voldemort might be gunning for people closest to me, and he was genuinely worried about you. They
had attacked Ron, and I was so scared for you, but I’m so grateful they didn’t get to you yet.”

Hermione smiled at Harry at first, thankful for the care he showed to her at the moment, but
then sank into worry soon after. It just didn’t occur to her at all that she, too, might be in
danger like Harry from Voldemort. Being closely considered for harm by the most terrible wizard of
all time was indeed very troubling, and she wondered how Harry had lived through that already.

Harry read through the look on her face and said, “Don’t worry, Hermione, I’ll be around for you
when you need me. They won’t touch you…I promise you that…”

Upon hearing Harry’s word, she felt secure again. Grateful, she stood up and bent down to kiss
Harry on his cheek.

“Thanks, Harry – you can count on me, too. See you tomorrow…” She ran up the spiral staircase
towards her room, leaving a stunned Harry alone beside the fireplace. He felt he was sitting on a
cloud instead of a couch.

-o0o-

In a secret room deep beneath Hogwarts castle, a meeting was taking place for half a dozen
masked and hooded wizards. The room was earily dark, with only a handful of torch lights
illuminating the whole area. The Dark Mark was prominently carved on the stone floor.

“Is everything ready?” asked a wizard, who looked like their leader. He was sitting on a wooden
chair in the middle of the room, in front of the rest.

“Yes, master,” replied one. “We have already made contact with our target. It’ll only be a
matter of time when we’re done with our mission.”

The leader nodded with satisfaction. “Good. Master Lucius is anxious to know if everything is in
place, and I trust you know what to do.”

All the wizards bowed and left their leader, allowing him to pull out a parchment to write a
letter addressed to Lucius, feeling satisfied to write at last, “It has commenced. In due time, the
Dark Lord will be proud of your genius, Master Lucius. I have information that will prove to be of
valuable importance to you and the Dark Lord…”

-o0o-

The first day of class for the year started the next morning for all. A good night’s sleep
permitted everyone who was worried about the presence of security wizards to pretend it was the
same Hogwarts they knew all these years. But as soon they all walked the corridors for their usual
activities, they knew they weren’t dreaming about it at all. For many who believed Fudge was doing
the right thing to stop all the silly talk of Voldemort’s return by sending them in, the sight of
the wizards was simply gratifying.

For Harry, it was good enough to hear the wizards’ voices getting coarse out of bellowing
reminders about the two-man rule. They were plainly overwhelmed by the flow of Hogwarts students
getting to the Great Hall at the same time for breakfast. The corridors were simply too narrow to
accommodate enough space to separate just about everyone. Ultimately, the wizards’ voices couldn’t
be heard anymore even if they were normal – there were just too many students talking and they were
drowned out by the noise.

Harry found Hermione already stirring her porridge with milk and he sat down beside her. They
had both realized that they didn’t need to really watch each other during the day when there were
many students around. The only time they thought of having the greater danger was at night, when
the school grounds were almost devoid of people.

To Harry’s annoyance, Ron was seated on his usual place – just in front of Hermione across the
long table. Harry didn’t know how to act when he’d be within this close in proximity with Ron, and
he looked emotionless. Perhaps if he didn’t look at him, he might pretend he wasn’t around at
all.

“Hi, Hermione,” said Harry as happily as he could. “I hope you had a good night’s sleep.”

She wanted to answer back, but seemed to decide against it when she heard Ron grunt in front of
her. She just wiggled her nose at Harry, signaling him to refrain from talking until they’d get far
away from Ron soon. Even she felt awkward with his presence, and it was feeling alien to them after
years of seemingly non-breakable friendship.

Harry sighed and prepared to fill up his dish. As soon as he started eating his bacon and eggs,
the owl post had arrived, delivering the morning mail to everyone. It was not at all unusual for
Harry to see so many letters being brought in, if not for the amount of mail landing in front of
Hermione.

“What the – ” she said, bewildered at the mound of envelopes she was getting. Even Ron looked on
slightly intrigued.

“Who’re they from?” asked Harry. When he grabbed one to look much closer, most the envelopes
seemed to have the same handwriting, and the same return address. Bulgaria.

“Oh,” Harry said softly. “Krum’s probably wondering why you weren’t answering his letters,
Hermo-ninny.”

Hermione’s face reddened, and she tried to stuff all the envelopes into her already overfilled
bag of books, except for one, which she instantly opened to read.

“Yeah, you’re right about that, Harry,” she said timidly. “He’s worried I’m ignoring his
letters, actually…I think those owls over at – you know where – were for me all the time.”

“So Vicky’s still writing to you, isn’t he, Hermione?” said Ron severely.

Hermione breathed, closed her eyes for a moment, and looked at Ron. “As you can see, yes!
So?”

“So you don’t care about the trio we had anymore, do you?”

Hermione frowned. She didn’t get what Ron was trying to point out. “What’s that got to do with
writing letters to Viktor? It’s just a friendly…”

Ron snorted and laughed. Neville and their other close classmates stopped eating and looked on
the simmering exchange between Ron and Hermione apprehensively. “Friendly, huh? Don’t you get it?
He’s trying to take you away from us because he’s in love with you! He doesn’t care if you stay
with your best friends as long as he has you for himself!”

“Do you really think, Ronald, that’s what he was writing to me about all along? Don’t talk about
what you don’t know,” Hermione growled.

“Yes, I do! And you only need to deny it. He’s destroying our friendship because he’s a selfish
git…”

“He’s not a…” Hermione started to shout, but Harry intervened.

“Why don’t you take a good look at yourself, Ron?” Harry said angrily, making Ron snap his
sights unto him away from Hermione. “Who do you really think is the one who’s actually destroying
our trio? You’re actually doing the very thing that you seem to be afraid of happening yourself,
didn’t you notice?!?”

“I’m not – I’m not the one who’s causing all this! You are!” Ron retorted.

“How so, Ron?” asked Hermione, still glaring at him.

“I know what you’re thinking, Ron,” Harry said harshly. “Don’t you dare blurt it out in the
Great Hall, or we’ll never talk to you again!”

Ron apparently realized something because he was suddenly lost for words. “You’re wrong! You’re
wrong! I’m not…just shut up! Shut up!” He stormed out of the Great Hall, leaving a silent
Gryffindor table and sniggers from the Slytherins.

Hermione rubbed her face with both her hands, and shook her head. “I can’t believe Ron’s
treating us this way…especially during a time like this,” she sobbed.

“’Tis better you all snapped,” said Fred from across the table. “I think I just heard a gong
ringing inside his head.”

“He’s just in denial at the moment, but he got the message,” added George. “He’ll swallow his
pride soon, I wager.”

Harry strangely didn’t look forward to it at once, but hoped Ron had finally realized he didn’t
have to break up their friendship at all in the first place just because he wanted to make his
point across. It didn’t concern him for the moment, but he was worried about Hermione, who looked
hurt after being accused by Ron for something that might not be true at all, like her alleged
romance with Krum. She had stopped short of saying she had nothing to do with him except for having
him to write to, and Harry personally hoped that was true because it also affected him in a way if
it weren’t. For now, he chose not to push the subject further and looked for something to distract
Hermione. He found it by the other unaddressed lavender colored envelopes for her that caught his
attention, which were left uncollected at the table because of the shouting match.

“Now, who’s this from? Can I open it for you?” Harry asked.

Hermione nodded and tried to smile, but the tears welling in her eyes streamed down already. She
wiped them with her hand and turned her attention to the envelope Harry was holding.

“Okay, thanks,” he said, and tried to open one. He couldn’t. The paper looked easy to rip, but
he felt it was just impossible. “I can’t seem to…”

“Oh, don’t act like you can’t,” Hermione laughed, wiped off more of her tears, and grabbed it
away from Harry. “Nice try, but thanks…”

“No, I mean, really…” but Harry stopped talking when Hermione simply opened the envelope as if
it had no glue and started to read it. Her eyes narrowed as she scanned the whole letter, and
looked deadly serious.

“Hermione, what is it?” Harry said. “What does it say?”

She didn’t answer but just kept on reading.

“Hey,” Harry nudged her with his elbow, snapping her off from her thoughts.

“Ow! What?” she said, looking irritated.

“I said what’s wrong with the letter?”

“Like I said, it’s Viktor – he’s wondering why I haven’t been answering his letters…”

Harry rolled his eyes and took the blank envelope again, examining it. “You’re just repeating
what I said before, and it doesn’t say it’s from Viktor from this envelope, Hermione. It’s blank!
But if you think it’s too private, I can understand…”

“No really, its…”

But Harry didn’t know what Hermione wanted to tell him because a new wave of owls – hundreds of
them this time – came soaring down again from the air, delivering everybody their own free copy of
the Daily Prophet, which Horace Whipple had mentioned the night before. Harry became more
interested in today’s issue and forgot all about Hermione’s lavender envelopes. The Headlines even
made him forget about his breakfast.

**Minister Fudge Declares State of** **Emergency**

*Plan To Overthrow the Minister Discovered and Foiled – Warrants Out to Arrest
Plotters*

*Ministry of Magic Aurors yesterday had uncovered a sinister plot by some groups to take
advantage of the confusion and division among the wizard populace caused by rumor-mongers out to
spread the bogus story of He-Who-Must-Be-Named’s return as true fact by taking over the position of
Cornelius Fudge as Minister of Magic through violent means. This had prompted Minister Fudge to
call on an emergency meeting at* *11 p.m.* *last night with the Governing Council to
grant him emergency powers in order to save the wizard world from anarchy. Voting 8-2 in favor, the
Minister was given such powers to maintain order and he immediately declared the wizard world to a
30-day state of emergency.*

*His first order of action was to order the arrest of some wizards suspected to be behind the
plot to bring chaos to the wizard world, namely, Olga Gargarin, Ramius Palkov, Nikolai Berdinski,
Sturgis Podmore, and Remus Lupin, among others…*

“Fudge’s out of control, and worse he’s letting Lucius dictate everything to him!” Harry grunted
angrily to Hermione, who was too shocked to even answer him.

Somehow, Lucius had discovered who some of the members and close associates in the Order were.
But how? The Order of the Pheonix was being put out of action even before they could get fully
organized.

-o0o-

Chapter 12 coming soon. *New messages from the author will be posted on top of this chapter,
so you may want to check it out to know when to expect the next chapter would be coming out. Again,
I thank you for reading this story.*



13. Recurring Lapses
--------------------

**Notice: Next update may take up to next November 4th. Please bear with me,
thanks.**

*Author’s note: Thanks to Ridxwan and PottersPrincess again for their review! Your two thumbs
ups and comments had an inspiring effect. It meant that I’ve at least kept the story interesting
for readers, and I thank you for it! I hope this chapter will be interesting to everyone, too,
because the plot keeps on thickening here. Of course, if you find something wrong or bad in this
chapter (or if I’ve overdone portraying Harry and Hermione’s growing affection towards each other)
please let me know! Thanks!*

**Chapter 12**

**Recurring Lapses**

The news about the arrest warrants issued against the people Harry and Hermione knew is what
made them more afraid of than Fudge’s declared state of emergency itself. They thought they were
relatively safe when they were in Hogwarts from any of Fudge’s policies outside of it, and they
should worry more about the immediate things like the new interior rules being enforced against the
students and faculty (though they also kept wondering what was going on right now in the wizard
world outside Hogwarts). They had also thought of being more especially concerned about the
pressure that was being brought on the Order of the Pheonix.

Although Olga, Ramius (who had been wanted by the Ministry in the first place), and Nikolai
weren’t full-fledged members of the Order, Dumbledore had lost some valuable assets that could have
contributed immensely to the cause nevertheless. The immediate question that came into Harry and
Hermione’s mind was that how could anyone have known Lupin and Podmore were actually involved in a
secret group for a specific purpose of existence? They both accounted for almost a third of the
active members of the Order they knew. Of course, the Order of the Pheonix was not at all formed
against Fudge, but to fight Voldemort. Harry and Hermione could not help but think they’ve been
infiltrated by someone. But who?

“Could it be Nikolai?” Hermione suggested in a hushed tone as they sat on a bench at the
courtyard. She and Harry left their breakfast untouched and decided to discuss the current
situation in a quiet place, where no one can hear them. They still had about 20 minutes to talk
before their first class. “I mean, he’s the new one, isn’t he? Olga and Ramius brought him in…”

“But I don’t think it makes sense, Hermione,” said Harry thoughtfully. “He’s among the wizards
wanted by the Ministry…”

“But that could be just a cover,” interrupted Hermione. “Isn’t it?”

Harry thought more deeply again. That was possible, but at the same time, he found it hard to
believe. “I don’t think someone who had gone through all the lengths to save a Muggle-born like you
might be a Death Eater,” he said, “but let’s not rule him out just the same. Anybody else?”

Hermione thought deeply again. “There could be other members in the Order we haven’t met
yet…”

“That’s possible, too,” agreed Harry. “D’you think we should warn Dumbledore, and tell him who
we’re suspecting?”

“We could,” Hermione said, but she shook her head, “but I’m he’s already thought of that. It’s
not hard to think a thing like a mole inside his own Order after what’s happened. It’s obvious. I
trust Dumbledore’s in control…”

Harry nodded and sighed deeply. “Olga and the others might have been up to something already,
and these warrants just stopped them from going on any further. A clever trick – I’d love to think
Lucius is behind this. Consider this, Hermione: his spies might have informed him about some names
in the Order, and he suggests to Fudge to declare a state of emergency, and issue arrest warrants
to capture them effectively preventing them to continue with their mission.”

“Brilliant theory, Harry,” Hermione grinned. “But what are the odds of Fudge declaring a state
of emergency at once and having the Governing Council approve it immediately just because Lucius
suggested it? Such declarations need to have some tension building up over time until a boiling
point is reached…I just can’t believe he could do it overnight.”

“Lucius could have bought some of them…”

Hermione smiled again. “Okay, let’s say that’s true,” she said, “but we just don’t know what the
real reason is behind the state of emergency and how it came about yet. I never heard of any news
about some brewing tensions in the wizard world. Have you? Dumbledore and the Order could have
discussed it in Grimmauld, but they didn’t. It came as a total surprise, even for Dumbledore like
you told me, but your theory might be correct. Let’s try to gather up the facts first and then
we’ll think of something…”

“Yeah, I guess you’re right,” Harry sighed. “No point of zeroing in on one theory, which just
comes from our own imagination, right?”

Hermione didn’t say anything further though she rested her head on Harry’s shoulder in a
friendly manner and giggled, because she thought Harry’s way of thinking was rather cute to her.
Harry didn’t actually mind that at all; he didn’t fidget, wrapped his arm around her neck, and made
a mess of her hair with the other playfully, which she mockingly protested. For a moment they just
froze…feeling and enjoying the warmth of each other amid the snow. Lots of things played around in
each of their minds, such as how really good it felt when they sat together this close. They didn’t
choose to speak about it - they just allowed their inner feelings to flow. The wonderful thing for
each of them was they seemed to have temporarily forgotten about the threat around them when they
were in this state. For Harry, feeling Hermione’s hair brush against his face had a fantastic
effect on him that he couldn’t explain. Hermione felt the same as she felt Harry face pressing the
top of her head. She could have wrapped her arms around Harry’s waist if not for…

“Darn,” Harry breathed. “Blinky and Dinky’s coming towards us…”

“Who?” Hermione said, breaking away, sitting up straight, and looking around.

“The wizards I saw talking to you yesterday after supper…I gave them those names.”

Hermione found them walking to their direction from their flank. She let out a breath of
disappointment. “Oh, no! What do they want this time?” she said, looking away from them,
frowning.

“Why, what did they talk to you about last night?” Harry asked, but Hermione couldn’t answer his
question anymore because they had now come within earshot.

“Miss Granger, we’ve been looking around for you. Assistant Administrator Seymour requires all
the prefects’ assistance urgently…” said Blinky. “Sorry to break the mood…”

“Yes, sir,” Hermione replied, stood up, and gathered her things from the bench. She turned to
Harry. “I think I’m going to be late for Defence Against the Dark Arts class, Harry. I’ll meet you
there then?”

Harry nodded, and stared at Blinky and Dinky. They didn’t look stern at all, but rather
courteous.

“Our apologies, Mr. Potter,” said Dinky. “Duty calls for all prefects. She won’t be gone for
long.”

“What’s going on?” Hermione asked casually, picking up her last book and faced them.

“We’ll talk about it on the way,” Blinky said. “We’ll save time if we do. We don’t want you to
miss your class, though you’re fully excused.”

*Who says?* Harry asked to himself. *Now they’re dictating a student’s class
hours…*

“Bye, Harry,” Hermione said, winking. Harry thought it was a signal to him that she may be in
for a scoop today. Hermione left with the wizards back towards the castle. Harry sighed. If only
the wizards hadn’t interrupted them, he would have chosen to sit on the same spot with her all day
and forget about everything (including the whole day’s worth of classes). Knowing Hermione, he was
sure she wouldn’t have liked that and they would’ve gone to the classrooms anyway.

Which Harry reminded of something; he jumped when he took a look at the clock tower. He had only
five minutes to hurry up to the DADA classroom, which would take more than that if he walked
normally. He slung his bag on his shoulder and ran full out the opposite direction of Hermione.

He made it to his fist DADA class of the year panting. The whole class was already at their
seats, and Professor Russelpunk was taking his folders out of his bag.

“Just in time, Harry,” Russelpunk said happily. “We’re just about to get started. Take your
seat.”

Harry nodded and sheepishly walked towards his assigned seat. His eyes caught Ron, who took
Hermione’s place away from Harry’s seat (they had been sitting together since September), but Ron
didn’t seem to want to look at Harry. Harry understood how Ron was feeling, too, after their recent
exchange at the Great Hall. Ron, however, didn’t scowl – he looked peculiarly guilty. Harry didn’t
mind him at all this time and proceeded to sit down on his chair and placed his bag on top of
now-Hermione’s seat.

“Great,” Russelpunk started. “Let’s get on with our lessons. As you well know, as I’ve told you
countless times, Defence Against the Dark Arts is one of the most important subjects you must
dedicate learning in order to prepare for any threats that come your way in your life as a wizard.
Dark forces are out there just waiting, looking for the perfect opportunity to do bodily harm on
each and every one of us and you must not let your guard down at all times…”

“Oh, please, Professor!” interrupted Zacharias Smith disrespectfully. “Don’t tell us more about
You-Know-Who’s back again – I’ll report you to the security wizards!”

Harry closed his eyes and gritted his teeth. Smith was getting on his nerve again this early
during the day, and Harry didn’t know how long he could hold on to himself. He stared at
Russelpunk, expecting him to do nothing, but the look on the professor’s face suggested something
different.

Russelpunk just stared at Zacharias, who folded his arms arrogantly, and said, “Mr. Smith, I
didn’t refer to He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. You suggested it. I said ‘Dark Forces’. You spoke out of
turn – report to Professor McGonagall immediately! And take one hundred points from Hufflepuff for
disrespect!”

Harry gasped and held open his jaw out of surprise, because he had not seen Russelpunk tell off
a student before. Ever. The rest of the Gryffindors were impressed, and the Hufflepuffs had nothing
else to do but vented their ire on Zacharias, who was too shocked to even move from his seat. Ernie
McMillan, the Hufflepuff prefect, angrily took him by the ears and dragged him out of the classroom
leaving some of his classmates cheering. Zacharias was apparently not so endearing even for
them.

Russelpunk’s face was void of emotion, and returned to his lesson as if nothing happened,
earning the growing respect of the class, well, except for the Slytherins who looked unfazed.

“The lesson for today is the Flamer spell,” Russelpunk announced. “It’s an offensive spell that
shoots a violent flame out of your wand, scorching anything at the end of it.”

At this point most of the class edged away from the front fearing another disaster coming in
this lesson. But to everyone’s surprise, Russelpunk demonstrated the spell perfectly, with the
incantation “*Imflamaren*!”, gently burning the parchment inside a waste bin for ten seconds
and also performing its reverse spell, which was a gush of high-pressure water from his wand.
Everybody was excited to try the spell, but Russelpunk promised they would do it outdoors in
another time unless they wanted to transform Hogwarts into ashes, much to the student’s
disappointment.

Russelpunk also taught the class the “Whip”, a fiery-blue strand of power to electrocute anyone
caught within its grasp. Due to popular demand, he let everyone try it on a poor dummy, and this
took the whole double period. At last, this year’s Defence Against the Dark Art class had become
interesting, making everyone excited of the next lessons, except of course the Slytherins who were
trying hard not to look disappointed seeing Russelpunk redeem himself.

The bell rang for break time, and for the first time Russelpunk relished the moans and groans
from the class. He had never heard them do that before, and it satisfied him immensely. “Don’t
fret, class,” he said proudly, “the next lesson will be much more interesting, I promise you.
Remember, it’s ‘Lartigo’ for the Whipslasher. Class dismissed.”

“This was probably the dullest two hours of my whole life!” complained Draco loudly as he passed
by Russelpunk, which was followed by the expected laughter from Crabbe and Goyle.

Harry was the last to stand up from his seat because he wanted to congratulate Russelpunk with
today’s excellent lesson.

“Hard to please, aren’t they, those Slytherins,” said Russelpunk cheerfully to Harry after he
closed his portfolio.

“Don’t mind them, sir,” Harry said, “they just like to put down anyone who’s looking good. I’m
proud of you today, Professor!”

Russelpunk looked flattered. “Without your and Hermione’s efforts to help me think of these
spells and prepare well for them, I wouldn’t have done it. Thanks a million to you both! I guess
everything will be better from now on…”

Just then a girl from Hufflepuff approached Russelpunk sheepishly and told him he was cool
before running off.

“I think I won’t have to try to seek the attention of the students anymore,” Russelpunk said to
Harry as soon as the girl disappeared from sight. “Things are looking up – oh, by the way, believe
it or not I still don’t understand the rules of Quidditch. I’ve taken the interest in the sport,
and if you don’t mind, could you run me through it today – I mean, just an introduction will
do.”

“Of course, sir,” replied Harry. “But did you say once you were one of the most decorated
Beaters in the United States?”

“Oh, did I?” Russelpunk laughed nervously, and he turned red. “Uhm, you know, it’s – uh - been
so long and people like me do, uh, forget…and lose their skills over time…”

“Uhuh,” said Harry slowly, but he shook it off because he felt that the Professor was only
bragging about his skills in Quidditch to impress the students in one of his classes one time.
“Okay, it’s simple…” Harry told him the rules in just a couple of minutes, remembering Oliver
Wood’s same words in his first year.

“Wow, thanks!” Russelpunk said. “You’re right, it’s that simple to understand, and what
interests me most is the Golden Snitch. Cool.”

“Sorry, I got to go, Professor,” said Harry, looking hurried. “I just remembered to write to
someone today, and I have only half an hour left to do it…” They both bid goodbye and Harry went on
his way.

Harry thought of writing a quick letter to Sirius to ask him about how Lupin was, and he had to
go to the Common Room to get his stationeries. Along the way, it suddenly occurred to him that
Hermione had missed DADA today. The prefects meeting could have dragged on longer than expected and
she had no chance to attend the rest of the class. The common room was also crowded by other
students for the break. Harry looked for a place to start writing, and he found it in a lonely
corner. Moments later, Hermione had come in the common room, too. She looked extremely
confused.

“Harry, what’s going on?” Hermione said to him after she went over to Harry’s spot.

“Huh? What do you mean?” Harry asked, looking up at her.

“Have classes been suspended or something?”

“Of course not,” Harry said, mystified. “We had two hours of DADA and it’s break time. Where
have you been? You missed it.”

“Missed it?” Hermione gasped. “You can’t be serious! It couldn’t be break time already! I went
straight to our classroom after I was dismissed in the meeting and found it empty. Everybody was
out of the corridors! I swear the meeting only took a couple of minutes!”

“I don’t understand it…” Harry said, “What was the meeting about?”

“They just instructed us to help them enforce the two-man rule, which is giving the wizards
severe headaches,” replied Hermione distractedly.

“Serves them right…” Harry commented.

Hermione waved her hand impatiently. “Yeah they deserve it, but that’s not important, Harry…I’ll
tell you about it later – how could I not remember where I’ve gone during my last two hours?”
Hermione then paused. They both sunk into a moment of silence when it struck them.

“Oh, no!” Harry exclaimed. “You had another memory lapse! I was hoping that was behind you
already!”

It hit Hermione like a gong. She sank down on a couch and suddenly looked worried.

“We’d better see Madam Pomfrey…”

“Was Professor Russelpunk angry about me?” she interrupted apprehensively, seemingly less
concerned about her ongoing condition than her schoolwork (as usual). “I hope his lessons today
couldn’t have been good like it’s always been…”

“He didn’t mention anything about you, actually, but I’m sorry to break it to you, Hermione, it
was one of the best DADA classes we had in years. Russelpunk was simply fabulous today!”

“O-M-G, O-M-G, O-M-G!” Hermione wailed, covering her face with her hands. “I gotta look for
Russelpunk now and apologize to him! I gotta go!” She sprang up her seat and started to run towards
the portrait hole.

“See you at Herbology!” Harry cried after her. She made a u-turn, ran up the spiral staircase,
and got back down, now clutching her work robes with her.

“See you later, too,” she panted as she hurriedly passed Harry again, her bushy hair flying
behind her, and disappeared through the portrait hole.

Harry blew out a breath, shook his head, and returned to writing his letter to Sirius (though he
started worrying again about Hermione’s condition at the same time). Because of his limited time,
he had to write it as shortly as he can.

*Dear Snuffles,*

*Have you heard of what happened? How’s Moony? Where is he now? I hope you could answer as
soon as possible. We’re all worried here. Things are not looking too well.*

*Love,*

*Harry*

He reread his letter in the point of view of a stranger, and thought he wrote it as vaguely as
he could but enough for Sirius to understand at once. His letter could be intercepted because of
the tight security measures around Hogwarts, and the state of emergency. Harry was confident that
Hedwig couldn’t be caught by anyone midway, but he didn’t want to take any chances. It was better
to be safe.

Despite the fact that his letter was only very short, Harry thought he wouldn’t have enough time
to go to the Owlery to call Hedwig down and still make it for Herbology, which was located at the
opposite side of the castle so he decided he’d do it later. He gathered up his work robes and
headed towards the greenhouses. He hoped he could meet Hermione along the way, but there was no
sign of her.

Professor Sprout called for attendance, and Harry took his place at Greenhouse Three. Hermione
had arrived just in time to catch up before her name was called, and she was spared of being late.
Aside from heavily panting beside him, Harry noticed that she looked distressed.

While the rest of the class’ names were being called, Harry hissed to her, “How did it go with
Russelpunk?”

Hermione hesitated, but finally said, “He gave me extra work! Six feet of essays for the Flamer
and the Whipslasher spells.”

“That’s not bad at all for you, isn’t it?” Harry tried to lighten her up. “I mean, you enjoy
doing these things…you’re Hermione Granger.”

“But that’s not what’s bothering me,” she replied. “It’s how Russelpunk looked at me. He’s quite
different – he seemed to have become stricter and less friendly to me than before. He was always so
pleasant to talk to but not this morning…and I don’t understand it…”

Harry didn’t like that. Not that he expected Russelpunk should have been partly indebted to
Hermione for helping him fix his very own problems with teaching, but he hoped they had not made a
monster out of him now that he was beginning to be successful in lessons. Today, Russelpunk seemed
to have treated Harry the same way he had since the classroom mishap with Hermione, but why did he
now show a different view on her? He swore he heard him acknowledge Hermione’s help in preparing
his lessons as a big part of his success in redeeming himself in front of the fifth years.

Harry couldn’t answer her at the moment, and thought that he was now beginning to dislike the
professor, not just because of his treatment with Hermione, but for other reasons he was beginning
to realize as well. He glanced over to Hermione, and she looked real troubled because her eyebrows
furrowed while she cut off the excess growth of her Windyweed plant (a weed that produces its own
spurt of odorless air when bothered by gardeners, but its growth is highly useful as an active
ingredient for potions brewed to fight constipation). Her bushy hair flew back while the weed tried
to discourage her from pruning it by blowing strong gusts of air at her face. Everybody else looked
like they were riding in cars without windshields. Harry wished he brought along his Quidditch
goggles, but that was too late already.

It was hard to breathe because of the overload of excess air whirling around the greenhouse, but
this didn’t deter Harry from thinking more about Hermione’s recent troubles while he did his work.
Poor Hermione, he thought. Everything seemed to go wrong for her lately ever since she told him her
wand was malfunctioning.

*Now whatever happened with her wand?* Harry asked himself. He needed to ask her that help
Hermione resolve her other lingering problems as much as possible. He thought he should help her as
much as he could and wished his Windyweed would’ve stop blowing his face with air to allow him to
talk to her. What happened next almost placed Harry in a fit of despair.

“OW!” Hermione cried, and froze as she watched some blood ooze out copiously from her middle
finger. She had cut herself with her pruning tool. Harry immediately dropped everything he was
doing and tried to see how bad it was, ignoring the laughter from Draco and his cronies.

“Let me see it!” Harry said forcefully as Hermione tried to hide her injury away from him, but
she relented and allowed him to inspect it after moment. Harry took out his hanky and wrapped it
around the wound, which was big enough to be an emergency, to help stop the blood flow. Blood had
gradually soaked his hanky, and it seemed there was no stopping it for now.

“You better go to the hospital wing this instant!” a frightened Professor Sprout said to
Hermione. “Harry, you better escort Hermione…you may be excused from Herbology today…go!”

Hermione was silently crying while Harry guided her protectively towards the hospital wing,
wrapping his arms behind her back and holding her wounded hand with his own free hand.

“Don’t worry,” Harry said soothingly as they walked towards the castle, “Madam Pomfrey will fix
this in no time at all…”

“I just don’t know what’s wrong with me lately, Harry,” she sobbed. “It’s like…it’s like…”

“Like you’re not being yourself?” Harry suggested. “Or it seems like everything’s gone wrong for
you?”

Hermione sniffed and nodded.

“I don’t believe any of that baloney,” Harry said, trying to help Hermione think otherwise.
“They’re all just coincidences…” Harry, however, could not help but agree with her, too. He thought
about it himself – many things were going wrong for her lately. While Harry kept supporting
Hermione in their trek towards the hospital wing, he tried to enumerate in his mind her recent
troubles. Hermione’s misfortunes seemed to have started during her accident in DADA last year (if
he didn’t count the time when she complained about her malfunctioning wand before that). The
accident was the cause of her current troubles with her memory lapses (that was another, not
counting how many times it had attacked her). Then she had this sudden fever back at the Burrow and
that got worse in Grimmauld.

Harry didn’t know if he’d count Russelpunk’s changing view towards Hermione. For all he knew,
the professor might only have been angry with her for missing his class and Hermione had
misinterpreted it for something else, but she did feel bad about it. Cutting her finger in
Herbology was purely an accident, but it still counted as one of her troubles nonetheless. Harry
couldn’t help but feel pity for his best friend, and the bad thing he felt was he wasn’t doing good
enough to help her…

They had gotten to the hospital wing within minutes, and Madam Pomfrey dropped everything she
was doing to give Hermione medical attention.

“Whoa! That’s some nasty cut you have here,” Madam Pomfrey commented while she cleaned the wound
to prevent infection. “But you’ll live, of course – too far from your own guts. I’ll use magic to
close it, as usual, and it’ll be good as new.”

Madam Pomfrey expected Hermione to calm down already through her words, but she just kept
crying. “What’s wrong?” she asked her. “You can stop crying – it’s nothing…”

“She’s been through a lot of bad luck lately, Madam,” Harry told her for Hermione.

“Oh, is that so?”

“Y-Yeah,” Hermione cried. “I didn’t just cut my finger in Herbology – I don’t remember what I
did the whole double period of DADA…” she trailed off and sobbed.

“She had another memory lapse early this morning,” Harry explained slowly. “Hermione forgot
about what she did from eight to ten.”

Madam Pomfrey frowned. “That’s strange…” she said as she kept fixing Hermione’s wound.

“Wh-What’s strange?” sniffed Hermione, now looking alarmed.

“You should have recovered by now,” Pomfrey replied. “But this could mean it has taken much
longer than I expected.”

“You mean to say it’s permanent?” asked Hermione, her eyes wide, though still teary eyed.
“Please say it isn’t so…”

“No, no, no, it’s not that. Chances of this going permanent are very, very slim. But we need to
extend your medication if this is the case. When was the last time you had an attack other than
this morning?”

“Just before Christmas, I think,” Hermione replied. “Or maybe just after – I’m not sure…”

“Well, I find that slightly encouraging,” Pomfrey said, sounding as confident as she could. “I
mean, it shows that it’s tapering off over time. Soon it would just go away and never bother you
again.”

“Do you really think so?” Harry asked, hopeful that Madam Pomfrey was right.

“I expect that to be, at least. Hermione, I think you need to take your potion regularly for an
additional week…”

Hermione nodded, but still looked extremely worried.

“If the lapses occur again or more frequently than normal, you must see me again as soon as
possible so that I could give you additional treatment, okay? Promise me.”

Harry didn’t like the sound of that at all. It meant Hermione was not out of the woods yet with
regards to her condition. If he heard Madam Pomfrey right, it also meant it was possible it could
get much even worse. Harry was too distraught that he had neither heard Hermione reply nor had seen
her nod her head in response to Madam Pomfrey’s instructions.

“Here, you should take this,” Madam Pomfrey said to Hermione, handing her some pills. “Take one
each day…”

“What’s this for, to help me get rid of my memory lapses?” asked Hermione.

“No, they’re to stop you from worrying about it,” Madam Pomfrey said, shrugging. “You look like
you’re beginning to from the look of your face…”

“No, thanks,” Hermione said, putting them on a side table. “I absolutely don’t need
anti-depressants…”

“Okay, that’s fine. So, aside from your recurring memory lapses, you’re okay now, Hermione. Just
don’t forget to see me at once if it’s still bothering you…”

-o0o-

Harry thought Hermione should have accepted Madam Pomfrey’s pills because she looked as if she
needed it now. She hadn’t talked much at all since she was discharged from the hospital wing after
her wound was healed. Hermione had fits of anxiety attacks that left her silent for long periods of
time, obviously thinking about her condition all to herself very seriously. Harry was worried even
more for her than he’d already been before this.

“What can I do to help?” Harry asked Hermione concernedly as they walked slowly and silently for
over an hour around the snow covered grounds (there were less students around because of ongoing
classes).

“Oh, Harry,” she sighed, smiling for the first time since the last saw each other at the common
room, “You’ve done so much for me already, ever since I started goofing up before Christmas – I
thank you for everything…”

“But you’re still not well, Hermione,” Harry said gently, looking at her eyes as they kept
walking slowly together. “I just can’t get myself to leave you all alone like this…”

Hermione laughed softly. “It’s ironic, isn’t it? I should be the one worrying about you, not the
other way around…don’t forget about what Voldemort’s wwanting to do to you…”

“But I don’t care if I die in the process…it’s nothing compared to what you’re going
through…”

Hermione fell silent. She thought this was the sweetest thing Harry had told her ever since they
became friends. She couldn’t answer him, because it would only make her voice choppy if she talked
back. She didn’t show Harry the tears that were streaming down from her eyes at the moment by
facing away from him and pretending to look at the frozen lake they were passing by. She was so
happy Harry could disregard his own safety, even putting the possibility of his own death aside for
her, but she knew she wouldn’t permit that at all because she cared for her best friend very much,
too.

She thought it wasn’t really fair if she allowed herself to forego her responsibility to help
ensure Harry’s safety just because she had her own problems that Harry thought was more important
to take care of first than his. Because of this, it helped her decide to stop worrying about her
memory lapses and other bad luck. She would just have to deal with them when they came. Harry’s
words gave her the renewed strength she needed so badly to take her out of her stupor. She had to
take control of herself again, and she had to do it for Harry. She took a deep breath.

“Thank you, Harry,” she said, smiling and wiping her tears, “you’re such a very good friend –
I…I’m all right now. What you said really means a lot to me. You made me realize that I can’t
afford to be weak at a time like this because you need me as much as I need you.”

“Yeah, I admit I need your help, especially since we don’t know what’s going on around us or
what’s going to happen to us. But you can count on me, too, because I’ll protect you with my life
even if it’s the last thing I’ll ever do…because…”

“Yes?” Hermione said, waiting for Harry to say his reason.

“Because…because…you’re special to me…” Harry said carefully.

Hermione gave him a wide smile. “You’re very special to me, too, Harry,” she said rather
awkwardly, though this didn’t stop her from kissing Harry on his cheek for the third time in her
whole life. “You’re so very sweet…”

They both walked ahead together silently for some time, grinning like there was no tomorrow.
They felt rather good being alone together again…

“Tell you what, Hermione,” said Harry a little later, “if Russelpunk’s still bothering you, I
think he deserves a closer look from us…”

“What do you mean?” Hermione asked, looking clueless at Harry.

“I have a bad feeling about him. I just can’t make it out.”

“Harry, I hope you’re not doing this just to make me feel better,” Hermione said seriously. “I
mean, I’ve thought he might have been only angry with me for missing his first ever successful
class in his career, and I don’t really mind that at all…I already brushed that aside.”

“No, it’s not that. When I met him last night in the halls alone hovering by himself, I just
couldn’t help it but keep thinking he’s up to something ever since. Did you know he asked me to
teach him about Quidditch? He said he was specifically interested with the Golden Snitch. There’s
nothing really wrong about that in itself, but if he’s being friendly with me, I think he’s trying
too much. I’ve just got a bad feeling about him…”

“I see…” Hermione said. “So you’re suspecting him to be part of the plot? Is that it?”

“I guess,” Harry said uncertainly. “It won’t hurt if we go careful with him – if he turns out
clean, so much the better…”

“Okay,” Hermione nodded. “We’ll do our investigating together – it’s absolutely not safe if we
each go doing it alone.”

“I think we need to know what he might have been doing outside Filch’s broom closet in the
dark,” added Harry. “It’s close to Whipple’s assistant’s office – a Seymour or something. I think
we need to look there, too. I don’t know what Seymour looks like – I haven’t seen him yet.”

“I think you already did this morning – he’s one of the couple wizards who met us in the
courtyard,” Hermione said. “You know what? Those were cute names you’ve given them…” she
chuckled.

“You mean Blinky and Dinky?” asked Harry, surprised. “Which of them was Seymour?”

“He’s the one with the scar on his face.”

“Ah…that’s Blinky. So what do you think of him?” Harry asked. “Blink…Seymour, I mean?”

“Well, he’s surprisingly mild mannered and soft spoken,” Hermione said, thinking deeply, “not
unlike the other wizards who seem to think they’re the masters of the universe in Hogwarts. I just
don’t like the extra work they’re giving me and the other prefects. I’d rather worry about
homework…”

“I agree he was kind of polite with me today,” Harry said, nodding. “Do you think Seymour’s one
of the people Olga and Dumbledore thinks aren’t Death Eaters?”

“Possibly, but I still don’t want to bet on it,” shrugged Hermione. “It’s better not to trust
anyone of them until we’re absolutely sure…”

“I agree, I agree,” Harry said, smiling at Hermione. “Good thinking.”

“Thanks – this is a good way to keep my mind busy and keep me from worrying about my memory
lapses – let’s see what we can discover tonight, after dinner… we’ll do it together later when
we’re free. I know you too well that I trust your instincts. And let’s not forget – we still have
to go to the Library and see what we could dig up about the Metavira potion, maybe before
supper…”

“Darn! I just remembered! I still have detention tonight…” Harry groaned

“Then let’s do it after you serve detention…”

“Then, how about the curfew?”

“You have an invisibility cloak, don’t you?” Hermione pointed out. She looked as if she couldn’t
believe Harry would’ve forgotten about that. “Let’s use it.”

“Yeah, but remember what Moody warned us about relying on it too much…”

“Nah, I’m sure only about three people in the wizard world can see through invisibility cloaks,”
Hermione said confidently. “Dumbledore and probably Voldemort. Moody can see through cloaks because
of his magical eye…”

“I suppose…” Harry said uncertainly. “Okay, we’ll get my cloak just before dinner, and I’ll meet
you outside the second floor boy’s bathroom – I’ll start cleaning up from there.”

“No way I’m keeping you out of my sight that time of night, Harry,” Hermione said severely.
“They could get you easily when you’re alone serving detention. I’ll stay in the bath room with
you…”

“But that’s a boy’s bathroom, Hermione. You’re a girl…”

“You’re cleaning it, right?” Hermione argued. “I could conjure an ‘out of order’ sign and hang
it outside the door and nobody will come in…”

“Okay, okay, you win!” Harry laughed. “It’d be lonely cleaning the bathroom without company, I
admit.”

“I won’t forgive myself if they got to you tonight because I wasn’t there for you…”

Harry didn’t say anything further, though he smiled in appreciation to Hermione’s concern for
him. “Oh, I just remembered something,” he said shortly. “I think this will be my only chance to
send this letter to Snuffles.” He took out an envelope from his robes and showed it to Hermione. He
told her he wanted to know how and where Moony was after the warrants were sent out against him,
and Hermione confirmed his letter’s contents were safely too general from an outsider’s point of
view.

When they reached the Owlery, they found it crowded with some students who were calling down
their own owls to send letters to their relatives. They found Ginny among them.

“I’m anxious to know how Mum and Dad are, and how the state of emergency’s affecting them,”
Ginny explained as she waited for Pig to finish showing off his excitement of being given another
assignment. “I hope they’re all right. I think this would be a good way to know what’s going on out
there in the wizard world. I don’t understand what it’s like being under a state of emergency.”

“Good idea, Ginny,” said Hermione. “Could you tell us what they say and how they are after you
get a reply? We’re worried about them, too.”


“Sure!” Ginny replied, smiling. “No problem!”

After seeing Hedwig fly off towards the horizon, Harry and Hermione got to the castle just in
time for lunch at the Great Hall. Along the way, they witnessed a wizard leading three Ravenclaws
and bringing them to some place they had no idea where. The students looked worried on their
faces.

“What do you think that was all about?” Harry asked Hermione while he looked darkly at the
wizards.

“I guess they’re showing they mean business about the two-man rule now…” she replied grimly.

They both saw Professor McGonagall and Snape walking briskly behind at the wizards’ wake. When
they passed Harry and Hermione, they heard McGonagall say, “We got to see what they’re going to do
with our students – but if they’ll start manhandling them or giving them trumped up charges, let’s
give them hell!”

Harry then noticed the students around didn’t dare getting more than two in a group, and they
had thought of a way to circumvent the rule by occasionally transferring groups. One example was
Fred, George, and Lee Jordan. While the twins walked alongside each other, Lee was not far behind
by himself. Fred would sometimes leave George for a while to go to Lee, and vice versa. But it
still wasn’t the same as being a whole trio altogether. Harry knew he didn’t need to worry about
violating the rule for now because Ron had separated himself from him and Hermione.

The talk over lunch among the students seemed to have been concentrated on the detention of the
three Ravenclaws. Harry and Hermione, on the other hand, ate their lunch much more heavily than
usual because foregoing breakfast made them so hungry.

“Glad you’re eating properly, Potter,” said Angelina Johnson from behind. “You need all the
extra calories today – we’ll be having an extensive practice session at three o’clock today in the
Quidditch pitch…”

Harry choked out his boiled potatoes. “But Quidditch always doesn’t start until March!” he said.
“That’s still three months from now…”

“Quidditch season has been moved up,” Angelina said disappointedly. “Fudge announced that
Hogwarts should show normalcy in these ‘difficult times’ and he insisted in demonstrating it by
reopening the season this early. First match of the year is this Friday…Gyrffindor versus
Hufflepuff.”

“*In the snow*???” Harry said incredulously. “We’ll freeze to death in this weather!
Fudge’s *crazy*!”

“Shhhhh!!!!” Hermione said forcefully at Harry, looking around nervously for nearby wizards.
They fortunately didn’t hear their conversation. “Watch your mouth – they might hear you!”

“But…but…” Harry said as quietly as he could. “*In the snow*???”

“As much as I want to, Harry, I don’t want to call it off,” groaned Angelina. “If I do,
Gryffindor will forfeit the game, and we need all the points we could get to move ahead in the
standings. Sorry, but we don’t have any choice but to play this Friday. I’m expecting you this
afternoon at the pitch. This is our only chance for practice aside from next Wednesday – the
administrator only authorized us to use the pitch for those days. Don’t let us down.” Then she
walked off.

“I don’t believe this,” Harry growled. “I just don’t believe this!”

“Harry,” Hermione said, ignoring Harry’s unfinished tirade, “if you’re really worried about
freezing to death under the snow, I could research for a spell to add more warmth to your Quidditch
garb for the game – it won’t be difficult to find something.” Hermione took out her wand to
illustrate her point.

Harry, however, looked apprehensive as he stared on Hermione’s wand. “Not that I’ve lost
confidence in your magical prowess, Hermione, but h-have you taken care of that already?”

“Oh, you mean my wand?” Hermione said, laughing a bit. “Yeah, I did. I went to see Mr.
Ollivander with Mum and Dad the day after we got home for Christmas, didn’t I tell you? Sorry, I
think I didn’t…he replaced my old wand with a new one, but it still has the same core and wood
material – only it’s just half an inch longer than my old one. He told me I had a very rare case of
a failing wand, so he let me get chosen again. Don’t worry about it.”

“Glad to hear that,” Harry said, finally getting happy for Hermione. “I mean, it’s bad you had
to spend more for a new wand, but at least we’re sure you’re back doing proper magic without
worrying about creating accidents anymore…”

After they finished eating their lunch, Harry and Hermione went back to their dormitory to clean
up for afternoon classes. Since Hermione would be having Arithmancy at the same time Harry would be
in the pitch for Quidditch Practice, she insisted that she’d fetch him at around five in the
afternoon at the north stadium entrance hall and that Harry shouldn’t go anywhere without her.
Harry agreed and chose not to argue with her.

Harry and Hermione both had Potions from one to two-thirty in the afternoon. As usual, Snape was
still unpleasant as ever especially for the two of them, but this didn’t seem to deter Hermione
from approaching Snape to talk to him after dismissal.

“I don’t know what interest you have in the Metavira potion, Miss Granger,” said Snape
impatiently to her at the teacher’s table while Harry looked on at a distance. “As far as I’m
concerned, it’s useless and has no real value to me or to anybody else. Please don’t waste my time
asking about its derivatives, too, because it’s not worth it.”

While they walked together along the corridors, Harry said to Hermione, “I think it’s useless to
Snape because he’s *jealous* about Willard’s baby – he couldn’t have been given lots awards
for it if it wasn’t useful, right?”

“That’s right,” Hermione said. “I expected not to get something out of Snape, but it didn’t hurt
to try. Besides, we still have the Library. We’ll look it up after I fetch you at the Quidditch
Stadium, okay? Remember, north side entrance hall…”

They now separated because of their differing schedules. Harry had to hurry up to change into
Quidditch clothes in the dormitory to prepare for his – freezing – practice. Thinking that he or
Hermione wouldn’t have the chance to be back at the Gryffindor tower anymore after practice because
of their tight plans, he decided to bring along with him his Invisibility cloak like Hermione had
suggested now just in case it was needed tonight.

-o0o-

Like Harry had known all along, Quidditch under the snowy weather was the worst time ever to
play the sport. He thought playing the game in the middle of a cyclone was much more preferable
than this one. Team members practicing their moves in the freezing weather seemed pointless because
they all felt stiff and couldn’t maneuver well without bending their bodies to perform their wild
turns. Harry’s team mates often chose not to do a speed boost, a critical move in Quidditch,
because the chilly wind hitting their skins was simply too unbearable.

The only advantage in this snowy weather was that Harry could see the Golden Snitch more clearly
in contrast with the snow (the extreme vibration brought about by its wings kept snow from building
up on the ball), and his sun goggles helped him spot it more frequently than usual. Angelina didn’t
complain of Harry’s performance the whole time, because on average the Snitch usually didn’t escape
him more than twenty seconds after letting go of it again. Within two hours, Harry had caught the
Snitch at least a hundred times.

Harry’s performance in practice today was enough to satisfy Angelina and she dismissed the whole
team on schedule, much to everyone’s relief. At least they only had to endure the cold weather
again twice after this on Wednesday and Friday.

Harry waited for Hermione as agreed at the north entrance after a welcome hot shower. The north
entrance hall was a vast space with a forty-foot high ceiling and six double doors placed side by
side leading outside to handle a large group of people going in and out without overcrowding. Two
massive stairs flanked the entrance leading to upper level floors and vomitories to efficiently
distribute spectators around the pitch. Harry looked like a tiny dot as he stood all alone in the
middle of the silent entrance hall.

It was already half past five and there was still no sign of Hermione. The rest of the team had
already left minutes ago, and Harry wished he had decided to just go with them back towards the
castle, but an agreement was an agreement and he knew Hermione would’ve been hurt if she found out
he left without waiting for her. Besides, if she failed to show up, he had his invisibility cloak
with him.

So Harry sat down on a bench nearby and inspected his Firebolt to wait for Hermione.

“Mr. Potter,” said Madam Hooch, stopping by him while she carried the chest containing Quidditch
balls. “What’re you doing here alone after practice?”

“I’m waiting for HHGhhskjsdHermione, Madam Hooch,” replied Harry. “We agreed to meet here around
this time, but I think she’s running late.”

“Okay, but don’t stay here too long – there aren’t any other people around for half a kilometer
and I know Headmaster Dumbledore doesn’t want that, right?”

Harry just nodded.

“Very well, I’ll just return this chest in the ball room right there and be on my way,” she
said, smiling. “Take care, Potter.”

Harry watched Madam Hooch get in and out of the ball room, lock its door, and got out of the
stadium. Soon, Hermione was running hurriedly towards Harry, looking drained.”

“S-sorry about this H-Harry,” she panted, and bent down to regain her breathing. “I swear I’ll
never be…be late again for you!”

“It’s okay – but where have you been?” he asked, but he wasn’t angry with her.

Hermione didn’t answer at once, perhaps because she was still preoccupied with taking back her
normal breathing, Harry thought. But Harry couldn’t help but suspect she may have forgotten what
time it was, or…

“Hermione, did you just have another memory lapse?”

“No-no! Of course not!” she said severely, yet sounding slightly hurt. “How can you say that?
You’d know if I did because I’d tell you at once, Harry. I just had to do some extra prefect work
and it took a lot of time than I expected…”

“Okay, sorry if I brought that up…” but Harry hoped Hermione didn’t now choose to hide her
memory attacks if it happened to keep herself from being treated further by Madam Pomfrey. He knew
this wasn’t a good thing at all though he decided not to pursue it.

“C’mon, let’s go, and thanks for picking me up…”

That made Hermione smile and Harry allowed her to pick the route she wanted back to the castle.
Hermione thought they’d save time walking through the interior walkways and exit at the south
entrance, which was at the other side of the stadium. But to their disappointment it was sealed so
they were forced to double back to the north entrance, hoping they weren’t locked in already.

When they were almost out of the north entrance (they were glad it was still open) they caught
sight of someone outdoors at a distance walking towards the stadium. Harry, by instinct, pulled
Hermione back and hid her behind the walls, hoping they weren’t seen.

“Harry, what’s wrong?” Hermione hissed.

“I think I just saw Russelpunk walking towards here.” Harry replied. “Now what’s he doing
here?”

“So? That’s not strange at all, isn’t it?”

“It’s not, but we’ll just try to see what he’s doing here alone at a time like this,” Harry said
looking around. “I’m interested…”

“Well, okay, but did he see us?” asked Hermione.

Harry peered out ever so slightly from the edge of the entrance’s doorway and saw Russelpunk
walking closer. The professor was strangely looking back too often as if he was making sure he was
alone that made Harry suspect even more he was probably up to no good.

“He didn’t see us,” Harry replied, facing Hermione again, “and he’s coming this way!” He opened
his satchel and took out his invisibility cloak. “Good thing you suggested bringing this along,” he
grinned, and wrapped the cloak on himself and Hermione, completely rendering them invisible.

After a couple more minutes, Russelpunk had gotten in the stadium. He kept looking around making
sure no one saw him. Hermione immediately thought that it was mightily peculiar for someone to do
this if his only purpose was to have a lonely afternoon stroll at the Quidditch pitch, and teachers
weren’t restricted from visiting the stadium at all.

“I’m convinced, Harry; let’s see what he’s up to,” she whispered, catching on her interest to
observe Russelpunk like Harry.

Russelpunk silently went over to the ball room, and when he found out it was locked, he took out
his wand and muttered “Alohomora!” The door clicked open. Before he proceeded inside, he made a
final check for any sign of other people outside and went in, closing the door behind him.

Harry turned to Hermione under the cloak. “Do you think it’s safe to get in and see what he’s
doing there?”

Hermione considered it for a moment. “Maybe,” she then replied. “He might just think the wind
blew the door open – okay…let’s go before we miss anything…”

They moved fast towards the ball room’s door, opened it gently, moved in, and positioned
themselves quickly, as quietly as they can at a corner. Russelpunk was startled when the door
opened wide, and pointed his wand at the ready as if he was expecting to be attacked. But after a
few moments of silence and no sign of anyone, he moved over to the door, wand still at the ready,
and looked carefully outdoors. Deciding no one was really around he shook his head and closed the
door again.

“This door is probably a thousand years old,” laughed Russelpunk nervously, and went straight to
the narrow section of the room where the chest containing the Quidditch balls was resting on a
niche. When he succeeded to open it, he laughed as if he was like a kid in the act of creating a
nasty practical joke.

For Harry and Hermione, hearing Russelpunk laugh like this while doing something they could not
see was very eerie as it was scary. Just as bad was they couldn’t squeeze themselves at the narrow
space near the chest without being felt by Russelpunk to have a closer look. The professor kept on
laughing for a few more moments like an excited little tyke, then finally closed the chest, and
started his way back towards the door. He opened it, and before he got out, he again looked around
to make sure he wasn’t seen. At last he was outside and Harry and Hermione heard the door lock
again after it was closed securely.

Harry removed the invisibility cloak over his and Hermione’s heads, and stared at the chest.

“What do you think that was all about, Harry? And why was he laughing that way?” Hermione
hissed, looking extremely puzzled and shocked after witnessing Russelpunk’s highly suspicious
behavior with her own two eyes.

-o0o-

Chapter 13 coming soon. *New messages from the author will be posted on top of this chapter,
so you may want to check it out to know when to expect the next chapter would be coming out. Again,
I thank you for reading this story.*

*To some of the readers of this fic, I’d really appreciate it if you drop a review, too.
Thankssss!*



14. The Stray Snitch
--------------------

*Author’s note: Thanks for waiting for this update. I’ve been quite busy lately as usual. I
hope this chapter has been debugged of mistakes, but I think I’ve missed some. I’m still thinking
there are sloppy parts in this chapter, so I’ll try to find and improve them. Please kindly leave a
review and tell me what you think of this chapter. Thanks! I’ll try to* *post the next chapter
as soon as I can.*

**Chapter 1****3**

**The Stray Snitch**

Russelpunk had been barely gone for a minute, yet Harry and Hermione had virtually not moved an
inch and had not said anything. They were busy figuring out for themselves what their DADA teacher
had been doing with the chest that contained Hogwarts’ official Quidditch balls alone in the ball
room.

“Hermione, do you think he had tampered with one of the balls?” Harry asked her finally, not
even sure if this was the reason why Russelpunk had been here. He probably had other motives, but
this was the first thing that came into Harry’s mind.

Hermione moved around and pondered the possibility, but like Harry, she was not sure about that,
too. “I don’t know, Harry. Why don’t we try and examine the balls to find out if he did?”

Harry rolled his eyes. It was the most obvious thing that he would have done first right after
Russelpunk had left, but it never came into his mind at all. Perhaps it was because he was a
Quidditch player, and the thought of opening up the chest without Madam Hooch’s knowledge was the
most dishonorable thing he could do in his life. Therefore, it took him long enough to make a move
towards the chest.

“Hermione,” he said undecidedly, “why don’t you…”

It was Hermione’s turn to roll her eyes this time. She immediately understood why Harry was so
reluctant to even touch the chest. She went over to it, knelt down on both knees, looked for the
latch, and opened it.

At first glance, the balls looked untouched and normal. Hermione then looked back at Harry and
said, “So which one do you think he manipulated?”

“It’s the Snitch,” Harry replied confidently. “He mentioned today it’s the very thing he was
most interested on. If it’s the Bludger, he would’ve been knocked out on the spot…”

Hermione found the info about Russelpunk’s specific interest for the Snitch highly surprising
and suspicious; Harry told her about his conversation with Russelpunk about Quidditch in the
Defence Against the Dark Arts class she missed today. Hermione nodded her head after she heard
Harry’s story and turned her attention back to the Snitch, which was securely fastened inside its
own mini-compartment.

“Do you think there’s some kind of an alarm when I touch one of the balls?” she asked
apprehensively while opening the mini-compartment. She examined the Snitch very closely without
trying to touch it.

“I don’t think there are,” Harry said, thinking deeply. “Remember that Dobby had once rigged the
Bludger and nobody found out…”

Convinced, Hermione removed the Snitch, and handed it over to Harry. As soon as it landed on
Harry’s open palm, it fluttered its wings. Harry looked at it closely for any signs of damage or
sabotage, but he couldn’t find anything yet.

Harry then prodded it upwards, making it fly around the ball room in its usual abrupt manner. He
allowed it to stay airborne for a few silent minutes, ready to take note of any unusual behavior,
and at last caught it when it strayed in the path of his quick grasp.

“Well?” Hermione said expectantly.

“Looks okay to me,” Harry muttered. All along he was certain Russelpunk had sabotaged the Snitch
in some way, but Harry at the moment was inconclusive. “Do you think we should go tell Madam Hooch
about this?”

Hermione immediately shook her head. “No, Harry,” she said seriously, “she’ll know we’ve been
inside the ball room illegally and we’ll surely have lots of explaining to do…”

“Then how can we know for sure the Snitch hasn’t been tampered with?” Harry asked her patiently.
“The game’s next Friday…”

“You have one more practice session on Wednesday, right?” Hermione said after she thought about
it. “We’ll try to find out if it’s been sabotaged then – if it was, we’ll tell someone of what we
know. How about Dumbledore – though we must only tell him *after* we’re certain it’s rigged
and we’ll tell Russelpunk on him then. Otherwise, he will think we’re just be reacting out of our
imagination.”

Harry agreed with her at once. He’d only let the Snitch loose for a few moments, and the best
time to really observe it for unusual behavior was next Wednesday. At least, he didn’t have to
worry about the match on Friday yet.

“Okay, that’s a good idea,” he said finally and Hermione smiled, though in a reserved way. She
couldn’t also help but suspect there was something wrong with the Snitch, too.

“You know, I’m starting to feel Russelpunk’s not a good guy anymore,” Harry said darkly as he
gave back Hermione the Snitch, which she carefully returned in its slot. “I was thinking about
telling him about the dreams I had about him, but now I don’t feel like it…”

“Harry, we don’t know what he did with the balls today,” Hermione said while she closed the
chest. “He acted strangely and a bit scary moments ago, yes, but we shouldn’t judge him yet until
we’re quite sure what he’s really up to - though I admit I feel the same thing you do. Tell you
what – let’s make a new rogues list and Russelpunk’s suspect Number Two…”

Harry managed to chuckle amid the seriousness of the matter knowing about Hermione’s practice of
listing down her own suspects when some kind of conspiracy was afoot. “So who’s suspect Number
One?” Harry asked testily.

“Whipple, of course,” she said brightly. “And that includes everyone Fudge has sent in from the
Ministry. There’s just too many of them and if we put Russelpunk at the bottom of the list, he’d be
number twenty…not good…”

Harry and Hermione agreed that after detention they would definitely check on the place where
Harry had found Russelpunk hovering alone in the dark the previous night. They hid themselves under
the Invisibility cloak and got out of the ball room as quietly as they could.

Dinner was still more than an hour to go so they decided to use the time up towards it by
researching about the Metavira potion at the Library. The prospect of spending time in the library
poring over books provided Hermione a very good reason to smile as she walked awkwardly with Harry
under the cloak. Harry, on the other hand, seemed to have been lost in thought wondering about how
Russelpunk might be a threat to him now that he had actually witnessed his bizarre behavior.

The grounds seemed deserted then, except for more than a few wizards patrolling around randomly.
Harry and Hermione had not been spotted so far, meaning not all the wizards could see through the
cloak as Moody had feared, which was a good sign that the cloak could still be relied upon when
doing some detective work (though they were still not sure about Whipple and some other wizards).
They decided to take off the cloak behind Hagrid’s hut because reappearing in the middle of the
grounds would look suspicious for the odd wizard who might spot them. Ignoring Fang’s excited
barking from Hagrid’s pumpkin patch, they walked casually towards the castle for the library with
the cloak bulging under Harry’s robes.

-o0o-

“I think I’ve found it!” Hermione exclaimed as softly as she could in the library after opening
up her the next book from the stack of thirty possible references of the Metavira Potion.

“About time!” Harry yawned, closing a very thick and moldy *Manual of Deadly Magical
Concoctions* by Crisselda Poizen. “What, then, is Metavira?”

Hermione cleared her throat.

“Metavira,” she read orally, “was discovered in 1982 by an amateur potions hobbyist named
Willard Waldo Wraskon. Preceding its discovery, more than ninety five percent of medicinal potions
that existed for serious magical maladies lacked an unknown ingredient to sustain their healing
effects for an extended period of time. Potions researchers over a thousand years had not been able
to devise such an ingredient, thus magical accidents were almost always treated with charms because
potions were not too dependable remedies until then.

“The Metavira Potion is a mixture of 95% Wiggenwald potion, 0.50% essence of fallow sap, 4%
Quinkard syrup, and the rest by a series of simple spells to bind all ingredients together to
create a potent mix. Metavira proved to be a valuable missing link to thousands of potions invented
before it to treat ailments and injuries, boosting the power of existing working potions, and has
opened the doors for the discovery of other important potions thereafter, which includes Nuron, the
long sought-after cure for DZT (the dreaded degenerative disease comparable to cancer for
Muggles).

“Metavira also proved to be useful for other than medicinal purposes only as many scientists and
chemists have discovered more about its secrets a decade after its introduction. Enterprising
wizards have noticed it was also an excellent ingredient to sugarless candies to eliminate the side
effects of sugar substitutes, food and beverage manufacture, and product packaging, among its other
uses. Because of its wide range of applications, Mr. Wraskon was awarded the Crisanthium Prize, the
highest award for magical science. He has vehemently refused to patent his own discovery and
donated its formula the Wizards Potion Masters Society, thereby forgoing the fortune he would have
amassed if he agreed to otherwise. Instructions to properly make the Metavira potion can be found
in Appendix G…”

Harry and Hermione looked at each other silently because besides knowing what Metavira was
really about, they didn’t quite get why Voldemort might be interested with the potion.

“If Willard had really donated the formula to the public,” Hermione mused, “why then would
Voldemort kidnap him at all? He could just buy this book and he could do it all by himself – even a
nine-year-old can do it, I bet…”

“Right,” Harry said, his eyebrows furrowing with the question. “Perhaps he saw potential in
Willard’s talents? Voldemort might be trying to mix up something for a specific reason, so maybe
that’s why he also had his sights on other famous potions masters – the big question is…what?”

Hermione nodded. “Even if we list all the potions Willard and the other scientists had done
throughout their lives, it would be next to impossible to find out what their potions can do if we
mix them all up together. There are literally millions of possibilities!”

“Concentrating on that would be a big waste of time,” Harry groaned. “Damn you, Voldemort!
What’re you up to now?” he growled quietly.

“At least we know what Willard had contributed to the wizard world,” consoled Hermione. “I’m
very glad to know Metavira was invented for something good. Can you believe Snape? I don’t think
the potion is useless – he’s just a bitter little prat. I wish Voldemort took him away instead of
Willard…”

Harry sighed. He agreed with Hermione that it was relieving to know the true background of the
Metavira potion, but it also introduced more questions than answers. He began to feel sad about
Willard again. It was not a pleasant feeling to keep wondering how he was right at the moment, if
he was even still alive. Coupled with his newfound uncertainties about Russelpunk, his mind began
to buzz constantly.

“I think I have a big headache now…” Harry grunted, rubbing his face and head with his hands.
Hermione looked on at him sadly because she knew all what was happening around her and Harry was
indeed having a big toll on them. Hermione sighed deeply and began collecting some of the books
they have pulled out of the bookshelves.

“Maybe you’re just hungry,” she murmured, hoping that this would help Harry think of other
things besides the most recent disturbing events. “You stay here and rest a little while I return
all the books, and we’ll go to the Great Hall for dinner together, okay?” She then looked on at
Harry fondly, smiling.

Harry nodded at her gratefully, thanked her, and rested his head lazily on his arms. He had
almost fallen asleep moments later; he jumped a bit after he realized he had drifted off. He wasn’t
sure for how long he had slept, but by looking at the stack of books at his front, he guessed he
had for only less than a minute. Hermione hadn’t taken off more books from the stack and she wasn’t
nearby because she might have gotten some books from a far shelf, he thought. Thinking that she
still had a lot of walking back and forth to do because of the volume of books they have brought at
their table, he decided to help lessen her burden.

He took a big chunk out of the tall stack. Luckily, most of the books he handled belonged to
nearby shelves and he didn’t have to walk far from their table. After half an hour and only two
more books to go, Harry began to wonder where Hermione might be - she had not returned for a long
time to get some more books.

It was almost dinner so the library was almost deserted, except for Madam Pince who was busily
reorganizing the unreturned books of other students on a cart just a few shelves away.

“Madam Pince,” Harry called her quietly. “Have you seen Hermione somewhere?”

“Yes, Potter,” she replied loudly (she was the librarian, so she thought she had the power to
violate her own rules). “Row E, but that was a long time ago. I’m sure she’s still here – I know
who’s getting in and out of the library without even looking at them – students, teachers – even
animals and the few ministry wizards who seem to have developed an interest with my book
collection…” she trailed off with perceptible pride on her face.

Harry thanked Madam Pince absently, and he decided to try Row E anyway. He had a bad feeling
about this, and he thought he had a strong suspicion of what might have happened to Hermione
already, if she still was suffering from her medical condition. As Pince had said, she saw here
last and there was no sign of her there. Getting his bearings, Harry guessed the path she might
have chosen to walk back towards their table from Row E, and like being in a grocery store, he
checked all the adjacent rows. When he got to Row G, Harry dropped his breath.

Hermione was slumped on the floor, with some books splattered around her; part of her body
leaned against a bookshelf and she looked unconscious. Harry ran over to help her fearing that she
might have had another attack. Just as soon as Harry had reached her, she stirred.

“H-Hermione, what happened?” Harry said breathlessly. He knelt down beside her, removed a couple
of dusty books on top, and helping lift her head up.

“Harry, I-I don’t know,” she said groggily and weakly. “How long have I been out?”

“No idea,” Harry replied, now helping her sit up. “I guess you just had another attack – you
know, your memory lapses…”

“Oh, yeah, it’s – “ she then paused as if she had realized something and then said, “No – No! It
was not a memory lapse – I’m perfectly fine…”

“We must get to Madam Pomfrey – she said to tell her each time you had…”

“NO!” Hermione shouted. “No! My problem is absolutely gone – I swear! I just, I just…” she
looked around, obviously trying to think of a good reason why Harry had found her in this state. “I
was just reaching for a good book and I guess I was too eager and some fell on my head – yes,
that’s it!” She then rubbed the top of her head and winced in pain.

Harry, however, was not convinced – Hermione wasn’t a very good actress. Still, out of instinct,
he tried to examine Hermione’s head for injuries, but she fended off his hands as he tried to reach
it.

“D-Don’t worry, Harry,” she said, pushing Harry’s hands away from her head, “I’m okay…help me
up, will you, please?”

Hermione slowly stood up with her own strength from the floor; Harry gave her support by pulling
her up by her arms. Hermione seemed to be frail and she struggled to balance herself upright even
though she leaned on Harry very heavily.

“Hermione, please don’t be afraid to see Madam Pomfrey – she’s the right person who could help
you…”

“No, I’m all right! I don’t have a condition anymore!” she growled furiously. She now looked
straight into Harry with tearful eyes. “Please?”

Harry was at a loss on what to say or do next. As much as he wanted to help Hermione out with
her medical problem, which seemed to be worsening rather than tapering off, he also couldn’t force
her to see Madam Pomfrey if she didn’t want to. It was either she refused to seek help or was in
denial that she wasn’t getting well at all.

Hermione wiped her tears quietly and didn’t wait for Harry’s response. “C’mon, we’re gonna be
late for dinner…” she sniffed, and pulled Harry by his hand. They walked together silently towards
the Great Hall. It was Harry who was the most pensive between the two and Hermione had noticed
it.

“Harry,” she whispered, “please don’t worry about me – “

“But you’re not well!” Harry reasoned gently, stomping his feet on the floor and facing her as
they kept walking. “I don’t want it to get worse…”

“I don’t deny I still have a problem,” she interrupted gently, surprising Harry. “But I’m afraid
if I go to Madam Pomfrey tonight, she might insist to admit me in the hospital wing and I can’t
stand by you when you serve detention…”

Harry stopped on his tracks as he stared at her, and Hermione turned to face him. The look on
her face was unmistakable. She was more worried about him than for herself and this made Harry feel
guilty more than ever. Hermione was actually more concerned about his safety than risking going
down to the deep end by ignoring her condition.

“Harry, not tonight, please?” she pleaded. “For me?”

Harry didn’t answer and just stared at her.

“If it happens again next time,” she continued, “I promise I’ll agree to see Madam Pomfrey
anytime. But not tonight, please?”

“Are you feeling fine right now?” Harry asked.

“Yes, I don’t feel bad at all – I swear…”

“Just this once, Hermione,” Harry conceded reluctantly after a long pause. “Just this once…I’ll
literally stun you if you refuse to see Madam Pomfrey when it happens again – I don’t know why I’m
saying that…”

Hermione broke into a smile, and went on to embrace Harry wholeheartedly. Harry, however, was
still unwilling to give in to Hermione’s twisted wishes but hoped that was the last of her memory
attacks so that he didn’t have to make good his threat to stun her.

“Just one question,” he said as they broke apart. “What was the last memory you had before you
had another attack?”

“Leaving you at the table and replacing some books at Row G,” she replied, starting to walk to
the Great Hall again. “Then blackness – and then I saw you looking down at me…” she trailed
off.

Harry merely nodded and didn’t say anything else anymore.

-o0o-

Harry and Hermione ate their dinner with the rest of the school without much talking. Hermione
was slightly ashamed at Harry for attempting to lie about by she had passed out (though she never
mentioned it), while Harry’s mind was overloaded with thoughts pertaining to today’s distressing
events. Hermione’s dementia attacks was an additional worry for him on top of what he saw in the
ball room with Russelpunk earlier, and the unknown reason for Willard’s disappearance. His mind was
literally buzzing with overlapping concerns that he didn’t remember what he had been chewing at all
(good thing Harry didn’t swallow the paper of his cupcake).

Hermione, who had put her recent memory attack behind her quickly, was at the same time
preoccupied watching Russelpunk darkly while he eating his dinner at the teachers table as she
munched her pie. McGonagall strangely wasn’t in the Great Hall tonight for dinner, she
observed.

For the first time like Harry, Hermione deeply suspected Russelpunk had a hidden dark secret
beneath the clumsy personality he had portrayed to the whole school since the opening of the school
year. Was it that he was a secret asset of Voldemort who was also into the plot to capture Harry?
What she saw today in the ball room was merely suggestive of something sinister judging from his
eerie laughter, but she knew she had to have incriminating proof to link with the effort to hand
over Harry to the Dark Lord. She felt another severe headache coming. She squeezed her forehead as
she staggered slightly forward towards her dish.

“You okay, Hermione?” asked Harry concernedly. She just nodded, trying hard to wear an assuring
smile, but this didn’t cause the desired effect on Harry.

“…I tell you, it’s beginning to get more distressing by the day,” said Seamus from across the
table in the middle of a conversation with Dean Thomas, Neville, and the Weasleys.

“Why, what happened?” Harry asked, making Seamus look at him as if he wasn’t listening. Harry
looked around and saw worried looking faces surrounding him.

“Didn’t you hear what I say, Harry?” said Seamus impatiently. “Professor McGonagall was relieved
as Deputy Headmistress this afternoon…”

“What???” exclaimed Hermione, looking horrorstruck and forgetting her headache. “Why…why? What
happened?”

“Remember the three students from Hufflepuff were caught violating the two-man rule?” Neville
replied for Seamus. “McGonagall tried to defend them in front of Whipple – she let slip of what she
thought about Fudge and it wasn’t pleasant, I hear. Whipple judged she made a dissenting opinion
against the ‘true authority’ and arrested her on the spot.”

“How did Dumbledore take it?”

“I don’t know - he’s still here. He might try to bail her out in London but he had not done so
today. Nobody’s sure if Fudge would budge – he’s become a monster already…oops!” Neville covered
his own mouth and looked around for signs of ministry wizards nearby. Fortunately there wasn’t.

“So what happened with the students?” Harry asked next.

“Expelled. Arbitrarily.”

“What?” Hermione exclaimed again. “That’s highly irregular! That’s…that’s just
*wrong!*”

*“SHHHHH!”* everyone hissed around her, panic stricken, including Ron.

After Hermione, it was now Harry’s turn to squeeze his forehead. He had his own headache coming.
This was another unfortunate event that made a tight situation they were in much more troublesome.
He didn’t know how he could take it much longer, and he still had to start serving detention
tonight.

“Who replaced her?” Hermione said.

“It’s not been announced yet,” replied Fred, “but I hope it’s not Snape…”

The expulsion of the three Hufflepuffs had an instant effect on all the students, and it was
evident after dinner when everybody was expected to return to their dormitories. Nobody seemed to
be willing to fight their way through the exit of the Great Hall because everybody may have thought
they might be detained when they crowded it. Harry became impatient and wormed his way through the
reluctant crowd with Hermione in tow.

“I really don’t like what’s happening at all,” he whined as he had cleared the exit to the
hallway.

“Who does?” Hermione said in agreement. They got the answer quite instantly.

“Looks like you’re beginning to lose some real good friends, Potter,” drawled Draco. “First it’s
Weasley, now McGonagall. I know it’s going to be *Granger* the next time…”

“Don’t listen to that rubbish,” Hermione urged Harry at once who was looking daggers at Draco,
pushing him further away. “You know that would never happen.”

“Yeah, what does he know about you, right?” Harry grunted.

They both headed towards McGonagall’s office to get his clearance I.D. for detention, but they
weren’t sure how they were going to get it now that McGonagall was brought forcibly out of
Hogwarts. They went in her office anyway, which was unlocked, hoping that she had left Harry the
I.D. somewhere before she got sacked. Who they found sitting behind her desk gave them quite a
shock.

“Ah, Mr. Potter,” said Horace Whipple, looking up from doing some paperwork, “I’ve been
expecting you to come here tonight to get your clearance I.D.” He pulled open a drawer and took out
a shimmering card with Harry’s name on it under the bold letters saying “Detention” and “After
Dinner to Ten for Ten Nights”.

Harry suddenly felt insecure inside McGonagall’s office facing the man that might be the leader
of the Death Eaters at Hogwarts. He felt that anyone could jump and cover his and Hermione’s heads
with a sack and it’s “hello, Xanthius” all over again, though he did his best to look unnerved in
front of Whipple. Hermione thought of the same thing, too, because she kept looking around
especially behind her. More so, Harry didn’t dare to say anything at all lest he would say
something accidentally that would cause him to be expelled, but Hermione thought otherwise.

“Administrator Whipple,” Hermione said severely, “what do you *think* you’re doing inside
Professor McGonagall’s office?”

Harry snapped his head at her, both shocked and speechless at her boldness.

Whipple, however, smirked and replied “It’s unfortunate that she denounced the Minister of Magic
today and that caused us to arrest her in the spirit of the State of Emergency, Miss Granger. Since
the Minister didn’t trust any of the teachers to replace her, he appointed me as Deputy Headmaster,
Officer-in-Charge.”

Judging from the look of Hermione’s face, Harry knew what was coming.

“Why, he’s a… *Ow*!” Hermione shrieked. Harry had stomped on her foot to stop her from
talking her way to more trouble.

“What she’s trying to say, sir,” Harry said quickly, “that it was good for the Minister to
appoint someone immediately to the post to prevent a power vacuum in the school…isn’t that right
Hermione?” Harry stared at her sternly, silently warning her to shut up. Hermione however, just
looked away from either Harry or Whipple begrudgingly.

“Yes, yes, he made a very quick decision, and a good one at that,” Whipple said. He handed Harry
his clearance I.D. “Make sure you present that to the security wizards upon demand. Miss Granger,
you have clearance to accompany Mr. Potter wherever he goes. Good night, both of you.”

Harry didn’t wait a second too long to get out of the office at the soonest possible time. As
soon as they got out of the office (Harry exhaled deeply and shook from head to foot), Hermione
growled “I can’t believe you said you thought having him in that office in there,” (she pointed at
McGonagall’s door angrily), “was the best thing that ever happened to this school! I was just about
to protest that in front of him!!!”

“And you get expelled in process? No, thanks. Be thankful I stopped you, Hermione,” Harry said
hotly.

“Better expelled than sucking up to that prat!”

Even though Harry wanted her to realize that was the stupidest thing to do in the present state
of affairs in Hogwarts, he chose not to infuriate Hermione further by just keeping quiet all the
way to the first floor boy’s bathroom. As soon as they reached its door, Harry turned to Hermione
and said, “I think I can take it from here, Hermione.”

“Don’t be stupid, Harry,” she frowned, “you heard what Whipple said. I can now look after you as
much as I want – I have clearance. I can’t leave you here all alone – something bad might happen to
you!”

“Well, it wouldn’t have made a difference anyway if you got expelled tonight,” Harry said,
rolling his eyes.

Hermione paused and momentarily her face went pale after she realized what she almost brought
herself into. “Merlin’s beard…you’re right! What was I thinking of back there???” she said,
slapping her forehead.

“Keep your cool from now on if you refuse to let me out of your sight,” he replied, smiling away
from Hermione’s sight. A bit of reverse psychology worked on her. He walked inside the door and
conjured a pail full of soap water, some scrubbing tools, and a large mop and then prepared himself
to go to work. Hermione walked in next, settled herself down on a chair she conjured for herself to
watch Harry do some cleaning.

Professor Flitwick entered the bathroom seconds later, making Hermione blush and say, “Oh,
sorry, Professor, I’ll be out by the door until you finish…”

“Don’t worry about it, Miss Granger - as you were,” the tiny teacher chuckled. “I’m supposed to
see if Harry’s doing his work for detention because Minerva has been transported to London to
contest her arrest.” Flitwick then frowned. “Those wizards are getting out of hand and Fudge’s so
evil now I couldn’t recognize him anymore.”

Harry and Hermione murmured in agreement.

“I trust Harry will do what he was ought to do, so he doesn’t need my attention, I’m sure,”
Flitwick squeaked. “I still have a lot of grading to do for the next few nights. Besides, I fully
trust the brightest witch of our age to watch over you, Harry.” Hermione beamed after hearing
Flitwick’s kind words, and she bent down very low towards the professor, because he was signaling
to her that he wanted to whisper something on her ear.

“Why don’t you use…” was the only perceptible words Harry could hear from Flitwick and he got
back to cleaning the tiled floor. Hermione’s face, meanwhile, brightened while Flitwick whispered
something more to her. He ended it with a wink, and whistled all the way out of the bathroom.

Harry smiled as he watched Flitwick’s back disappear behind the door. It was nice to know
Flitwick trusted him not to try to escape detention, which he has no intention to do at the first
place. Cleaning the deep-seated grime on the tiles around the vast bathroom was hard work at first,
but soon the dirt seemed to have become much softer to remove and less tiring to scrub, much to his
pleasant surprise. Hermione, meanwhile, was now humming to herself at a corner, tapping her wand on
her thigh at even beats.

“I can’t help but think Whipple arrested McGonagall just to take over her job,” said Hermione
halfway through Harry’s detention.

“Yeah, me, too,” Harry mumbled.

“Do you think he might be gunning for Dumbledore’s office down the line?”

“He can if he wanted to…Fudge seem to have given him lots of power, don’t you agree?”

Hermione clicked her tongue and shook her head. “If that happens then the Death Eaters’re going
to have free reign around Hogwarts. I think Whipple had all the chance in the world tonight inside
McGonagall’s office to wrap you up like a present for Voldemort – I wonder why he hadn’t done so
then. I think it’s because I was with you…”

“They can’t really do that while Dumbledore’s still here, right?”

“Oh – that’s true…” Hermione said, her cheeks going red. “But having no McGonagall surely will
make our lives more difficult…”

Harry couldn’t agree less.

“Hermione, I didn’t really mean what I said to Whipple back there,” Harry said soothingly a
little later. “I just said that to save you from being kicked out…”

“I know, Harry,” she grinned. “I know. And thanks for stepping on my foot, I needed that.”

Harry grinned back at her and laughed. The boy’s bathroom gleamed like new a little later. Harry
couldn’t believe it, but it took him less than an hour to finish everything what seemed to take
ages to even scratch the top layers of grime, let alone making everything squeaky clean. “I think
I’m done for tonight,” he said, stretching and snapping his finger joints.

Hermione was slightly startled and stopped humming (the soapy sponge Harry last used then ceased
to move around in circles - he didn’t notice it). “Oh, wow!” she said brightly. “Well done, Harry,
well done! Now can we go and take a look at Seymour’s office?”

“Sure, I’ve been looking quite forward to it,” said Harry, making all the cleaning tools vanish
from sight with his wand. “That wasn’t so hard like I thought it would be,” he thought loudly. “Got
the cloak with you?”

Hermione nodded and pulled out Harry’s invisibility cloak from under her robes and spread it
over their heads. They both carefully trekked to the section of Hogwarts where Filch’s storage room
was located. They had passed by a number of security wizards who didn’t sense them at all.

“It’s still an hour until start of curfew, so let’s take our time,” Hermione hissed, and Harry
nodded. They reached their objective and looked around for any sign of clues. As usual at this time
of the night, the corridors were dark and they could disappear through the blackness without being
seen for more than a hundred feet from any direction (except for the dim firelights at the opposite
end of the corridors). They carefully removed the invisibility cloak while looking around to allow
themselves more freedom of movement.

“Can’t see a thing at all,” Hermione whispered. “Use the Nocturnal Charm on your glasses,
Harry.”

Harry nodded in the dark, took off his glasses, tapped it with his wand, and muttered,
“*Nocturno*!” Putting his glasses back, he could now see ahead of him as bright as day.
“Here’s the door to Seymour’s office,” he said. “Russelpunk looked like he was very interested in
this office…and damn, it’s locked…”

He tried the Alohomora Charm, but it didn’t work. He cursed under his breath and tried to look
through the smoked glass on the door; he could not see anything inside, too. Harry examined the
door more closely and looked up – he saw a clear-glass transom on top of the door. Then he
understood.

“Russelpunk was hovering because he might have been peeking through that transom,” Harry hissed
at Hermione.

“Okay, so try to see what he saw that night then,” Hermione suggested quietly. “I’ll levitate
you – *Wingardium* *Leviosa!*” She guided Harry up just at the right height to let him
see through the transom. “So, what, do you see?” she said, looking around alertly for any sign of
movement from the corridor.

“Have you ever been inside Seymour’s office, Hermione,” he asked. “I mean, he keeps asking for
your help…”

“No, never,” she replied.

Harry tried to see what was inside the office that looked really intriguing. The office had the
usual table and chair – unopened boxes were strewn around (Harry thought Seymour had no time to
unpack his belongings). The only thing that stood out was an old chest beside his chair. Harry
tried to see if the transom was fixed or if it can be opened – maybe he could slip through it.
Unfortunately it was the awning type. Even if he was the skinniest person alive, he could not fit
in through at all. Harry longed to open the chest just a few feet away and see what was inside of
it – he was so intrigued of it. He felt Hermione tugging at his pant leg from below urgently.

“Harry, I think I could feel somebody’s coming,” she hissed. Harry looked around, and he saw
Russelpunk just meters away feeling himself in the dark. Panicking, he landed on the floor quickly
and fumbled with the cloak, just in time to cover himself and Hermione when Russelpunk used his
wand to illuminate the area. They moved to a much safer spot and Harry was the only one who could
see what Russelpunk was doing.

For Harry’s extreme annoyance, Hermione snatched his spectacles to try to use it and see what
Russelpunk was up to but she returned it shortly. His eyeglasses might have been too much for her
perfect vision.

Russelpunk seemed to be eager to get in Seymour’s office. He tried a few spells and charms on
the door knob, apparently trying to learn them earlier today, but he failed each time to open the
door. Perhaps Seymour had subjected his lock with a very powerful locking spell of his own, Harry
thought. Russelpunk roared as quietly as he could out of frustration, and hovered to see through
the awning like Harry had done earlier. Shortly, Russelpunk pounded on the stone wall, landed back
on the floor, and walked away fuming.

“C’mon, let’s get out of here before anyone does see us,” Harry whispered to Hermione, and they
started to move back to the Gryffindor tower.

They didn’t find anything at all tonight, except for the fact that Russelpunk wanted something
badly from Seymour’s office. The question for Harry and Hermione now was “what?”

-o0o-

With the common room void of other students late in the evening, Harry and Hermione talked in
hushed voices beside the fireplace to discuss Russelpunk’s probable motives for acting ever so
suspiciously. Harry had seen him doing such things for three times already, Hermione two.

“I’m afraid I’m also as stumped as you are, Harry,” Hermione sighed. “I don’t have good theories
to what Russelpunk did to the balls this afternoon, and his interest of something in Seymour’s
office. It doesn’t make sense…I can’t connect the dots.”

“Yeah, I understand,” Harry said, blowing out some air. “I can’t help but think Seymour is
probably the uncorrupted wizard from the Ministry Olga talked about, and Russelpunk is Whipple’s
secret agent. I bet Whipple sent Russelpunk to sabotage the next Quidditch match…”

“Why? To hurt you?” Hermione asked. “I don’t know what good it’ll do if they want to take you
out of Hogwarts. Madam Pomfrey is so strict with hospital wing security. I found that out earlier
this term, but I admit she’s a little lax sometimes. Chadron almost tried to stab Dumbledore to
death and nobody saw him. I’m sure they’d have a hard time spiriting you out of the hospital wing.
Besides, if Russelpunk rigged the Quidditch balls, we’ll know by Wednesday at practice…”

“Thanks, Hermione,” Harry said, staring at the dying fire. “We’ll try to see if my theory’s
correct – Seymour always sees you, maybe you could keep observing his demeanor…”

“So far he seems okay - he’s a little bit demanding sometimes, but very gentle in the end. I
hope we’re right about him, but sure, I’ll take a good a look at him – even Dinky.” Harry nodded at
her gratefully. Hermione then stood up from her seat, stretched, and yawned. “Lots of shockers
happening in one day,” she said. “It’s absolutely draining. We need to get some sleep…”

Harry nodded at her again and said, “Sure, good night.” She started to go up the spiral
staircase, but Harry called her softly.

“Hermione,” he said and she stopped to turn around to look at Harry. “Thanks for being a big
help today – and thanks for watching out for me…”

Hermione grinned. “Thanks for doing the same thing for me, too, Harry.” Giving Harry another
grateful smile, she walked daintily up to her dormitory and disappeared from sight.

Harry breathed and stared back at the cinders in the fireplace. He thought he was beginning to
adapt pretty well with a life of not having Ron around anymore, and he admitted it made his
relationship with her much stronger than ever before because they had never been together more
constantly like this. Harry knew Hermione was his only true friend left he could fully trust as
each passing day seemed to get more dangerous for him with more disturbing events. He didn’t know
what it would then be like anymore if something terrible happened to her, too – most importantly,
her seemingly incurable dementia attacks. That was about the only thing he kept worrying about
most.

-o0o-

Lucius could not seem to stay put in a single spot for more than a minute the whole night. His
plan was going on pretty well as expected, but he could not help but think his original idea, which
was still operational, was flawed.

He knew the Dark Lord was getting impatient for results. Lucius had the daily habit to reassure
him that all was working as planned and he will deliver Harry Potter “very, very soon” but he knew
his time was running out. He didn’t dare to divulge to the Dark Lord the first stumbling block they
have experienced during the holidays for fear of his wrath. The Death Eaters were working with Plan
B all along from the very beginning.

This was what Lucius was concerned about the most. It was all too late to change the plans lest
he’d delay even more further the delivery of his package to Voldemort, yet he was tempted to just
get it over with and do away with the meticulous measures. He could have done just that but it
always boiled down to…

“I can’t get Potter with Dumbledore around,” he growled. Even if he’d found a way to get rid of
him, the magic in Hogwarts was still too strong to snatch Harry Potter just like that, as they have
learned by being unable to take over Hogwarts the last time. Removing Dumbledore was just a mere
step closer towards the final objective but concentrating on that too much and worrying about the
Hogwarts magic next would mean more delays, and he didn’t want the Dark Lord to think he was just
buying time.

“How do we lure Harry Potter out of Hogwarts and pounce on him?” Lucius kept asking himself over
and over again. As if a deity from down below had answered his silent evil prayers, a Death Eater
went inside his office at his manor for some encouraging development.

“Our people have reported from Hogwarts,” the Death Eater announced. “There’s a way to get Harry
Potter possibly before the end of this week thanks to Rowwel Russelpunk - if you agree to deviate
from the old plan!”

“Talk to me!” Lucius said, encouraged with the news. The Death Eater laid out the proposal from
the agents at Hogwarts in front of Lucius, and each word he muttered made Lucius’ face grow
brighter.

“That’s excellent,” Lucius said excitedly. Sticking all along with Plan B wasn’t for naught
after all and it had paid off, he thought. “Tell them I approve of the new plan – it’s way too much
better than what I have conceived! Before the end of the week, they say? I couldn’t hope for a
result with the old plan within weeks! Good work! If possible, bring the asset along with Potter –
the Dark Lord will surely have the pleasure torturing and killing the Mudblood.” Lucius cackled
with the thought. “Keep me posted all the time with the arrangements – I must give the final
approval to move.

“I’m confident our mission will be done soon,” said the Death Eater. He didn’t wait for a second
longer and went on to notify the people at Hogwarts that the new plan was a go, leaving Lucius in
his den cackling with laughter.

-o0o-

Harry and Hermione couldn’t wait to know what Russelpunk might have done with the Quidditch
balls until Wednesday afternoon. The days before that were uneventful, and like before, Hermione
wished there was a way to speed up time magically.

On Tuesday, they had the usual DADA class with Russelpunk. Harry and Hermione chose to sit at
the back of the class and didn’t feel like participating with the teacher who had called them to
demonstrate some useful defensive spells they have suggested at the first place. Russelpunk looked
visibly troubled why Harry and Hermione had suddenly become dry with him and why they had all sorts
of alibis why they thought some of their classmates deserved to be at the receiving end of his
lesson, much to Ron’s disadvantage. Harry and Hermione kept avoiding Russelpunk altogether in class
and along the corridors the whole school week.

“Do you think he suspects why we’re suddenly avoiding him?” Hermione asked Harry on the way
towards their Potions class Tuesday afternoon.

“Who cares?” Harry replied apathetically.

Hermione became busier with her prefect duties towards Wednesday. Sometimes she wasn’t with
Harry for an extended period of time and she was often seen assisting Seymour and his partner.
Still, she always found time to spend with Harry in the end and they both derived more pleasure by
being alone with each other every time. They sometimes acted as a loner kind of couple, preferring
to distance themselves from the other students. Perhaps they hadn’t noticed it at all, but they
were actually growing fond of each other as time went by, even feeling disappointed together when
they had to separate to get to their own dormitories for bedtime.

Their growing affection didn’t stop them from concentrating on the most pressing concerns they
laid out for themselves. Wednesday afternoon had come; Hermione watched Harry and the rest of the
Gryffindor team very closely (from her snow-covered seat) practice for their next match with
Hufflepuff. She had her eyes peeled all the time for any signs of strange behavior to all the four
balls of Quidditch, which was a very difficult thing to do in real practice. Shivering and rattling
in the extreme cold made that even much harder.

Harry had caught the Snitch dozens of times ahead Angelina’s screams of “Chase the Snitch even
if it takes you all the way to Alaska!” Their ticket to the Quidditch Finals leaned heavily on
Harry’s ability to catch the Snitch at the next game if the Chasers couldn’t shoot more goals than
Hufflepuff.

Hermione felt slightly disappointment instead of relief seeing nothing out of the ordinary with
the balls for today’s practice. The Bludgers acted normally, and the Snitch didn’t go beyond what
it was designed to do. The Quaffle was the least magical of the three and it obeyed every law of
physics. She concluded that the balls weren’t rigged as they have suspected all along. It made her
even confused. She kept asking herself what Russelpunk was doing in the ball room last Monday
afternoon. Harry looked as mystified as her when the team was dismissed before six in the
evening.

“I don’t understand it,” Harry said in detention that night.

“Me, too,” Hermione sighed. “We’re supposed to be glad nothing was wrong with the balls, but why
aren’t we happy?”

“Maybe we were hoping Russelpunk would be the bad guy…maybe he just wanted to see the Quidditch
balls up close last Monday,” Harry conceded. “I mean, we shouldn’t have judged him like that at
once – he might be okay after all.”

“How about his other obsession outside Seymour’s office?” Hermione reminded Harry.

“I don’t know, but he’s just attracted to something inside there, probably – he really does act
like a little kid like everybody says. Boys will be boys…” Harry shrugged.

“I suppose,” Hermione said quietly, although she still had a nagging thought of Russelpunk
otherwise. “And we treated him like a traitor yesterday…”

“We’ll try to give him the benefit of the doubt from now on, what do you think?” Harry proposed
and Hermione agreed with him, though halfheartedly. By Thursday, Harry and Hermione resumed talking
to Russelpunk like they had before, much to his pleasure. Maybe they could learn more about him
much more closely if they did.

-o0o-

The match between Gryffindor and Hufflepuff came as scheduled on Friday morning. Despite the bad
snowy weather that didn’t seem to let off, Horace Whipple had insisted on not calling it off to
show normalcy in Hogwarts. After all, it was what Fudge had demanded from Dumbledore and the
Minister of Magic traveled all the way from London to witness it. For the sake of protocol and
courtesy, Dumbledore sat beside Fudge at the central tower of the stadium, though they didn’t
exchange the usual pleasantries. Dumbledore was extremely furious with Fudge because of
McGonagall’s unjust detention.

Hermione had settled at her usual place at the stands and cheered for no one but Harry. She felt
confident that there would not be any untoward incident for this game because the balls weren’t
rigged like they thought. The only thing that made her feel awkward was that Ron also took his
usual place beside her.

“How are you, Hermione?” Ron said timidly to her for the first time ever since the holidays.
“How’s Harry, too?”

Hermione didn’t smile at him, still feeling angry with him for what he had said to her back at
the Great Hall about Krum. *Too late the hero*, she thought.

“Fine,” she said coldly, and shifted her body away from Ron. Ron didn’t say anything else and
just tightened his lips like he always did when he felt very guilty of something.

“AND T-T-THEY’RRRRE OFF!” Lee Jordan announced through the sound system. “H-h-huffle-p-p-uff is
l-l-leading the standings, b-b-but will G-G-Grrr-Gryffindor be on t-top of the list after todays
g-g-game?” He was obviously shivering and having a hard time talking in the cold.

Twenty seconds into the game, Angelina scored the first ten points for Gryffindor. The whole of
Gryffindor went wild amid the “boos” from the Slytherins. Harry was hovering high up above the
pitch, searching for the Snitch like a hawk, and skillfully dodging a bludger that was sent to him
by a Hufflepuff beater.

The Snitch seemed to be much harder to spot in a real game than at practice, and nobody really
knew why. The Hufflepuff Seeker, Wilson O’Brien, shadowed Harry rather than actively searching for
the Snitch by himself.

“Hufflepuff S-scores!” groaned Lee. “Score is t-t-tied at ten each!!! Oh, t-talking under
th-this w-w-weather is impossible!” Lee then suddenly resigned for the rest of the match (except to
tell the scores) and most of the game was watched without his commentaries, with much protest from
the fans. After all, McGonagall wasn’t around to force him to keep commenting.

Thirty minutes later, Gryffindor had gained over 170 points over Hufflepuff. Even if the
Hufflepuff seeker caught the Snitch, Gryffindor was guaranteed to take the lead in the standings.
For Angelina, an additional hundred fifty points could also give them a very comfortable lead over
the other three houses, and she didn’t let Harry up with her demands to still look for the Snitch
to clinch the game.

“What’s the matter with you, Potter?!?” she roared when she hovered beside him. “Why can’t you
find the Snitch like you did at practice???”

Harry didn’t look at her, and still scanned the whole area for any sign of the Snitch. Then his
eyes caught a glint just beside the Gryffindor goal post. He dove his Firebolt towards it.

“Go, Potter, go!” screamed Angelina.

The startled Snitch zoomed away evasively from Harry’s outstretched hand. An exciting chase
ensued amid the roars of the Gryffindor house. Harry rolled, turned as abruptly as the agile Snitch
around the pitch. He fought numbness across his face due to the cold wind as the Snitch struggled
to widen its lead ahead of him. They were speeding from the Hufflepuff home court all the way
through the length of the pitch, and they quickly approached the other end.

Harry expected the Snitch to change course before it went out of bounds and prepared well for
it. However, it kept on going until they had gotten out of the pitch. Surprised and beffudled,
Harry stopped in midair uncertainly while he watched the Snitch keeping on zooming away towards the
Forbidden Forest. Most of he spectators became silent because it was strange for the Snitch to do
that – it never been out of the pitch for centuries.

Harry looked around for Madam Hooch for guidance, and from the edge of the stadium he saw a
yellow blur speed off to run after for the Snitch. The Hufflepuff Seeker didn’t hesitate and went
out of the pitch to go after it.

“Potter, you idiot!” yelled Angelina. “What’d I say to you? Go after the Snitch even if it takes
you all the way to Alaska!!!”

The Hufflepuff Seeker was now a tiny yellow speck from Harry’s position. Because of his
determination to get to the Snitch first, he leaned over his Firebolt to speed up and pursue it,
too. From the stands far away from Harry, Hermione looked tremendously afraid. She knew this very
wrong and highly suspicious.

“Harry! Harry! Don’t do it!!! Come back!!!” she screamed. Her classmates looked on at her in
bewilderment, not knowing what went into Hermione’s mind to try to stop their Seeker from earning
more points for Gryffindor.

Harry was now zooming at full speed away from the stadium, and now he was over the Forbidden
Forest. He had gotten within feet behind O’Brien who was almost on top of the Snitch; it was just a
few inches away from his hand. Harry grunted, squeezing even more speed to his Firebolt. The Snitch
went on straightly, seemingly adamant not to stop at all.

O’Brien’s Cleansweep Seven was no match to Harry’s Firebolt, and soon Harry had overtaken him
slightly. The Cleansweep had an emergency booster attached to it and it fired. The two Seekers were
now abreast at each other. Harry was confident the booster pack would not sustain itself for more
than two minutes, so if he kept on going O’Brien would be left behind soon. However, O’Brien
suddenly decided to get aggressive and go against the rules by ramming Harry to the side in an
attempt to dislodge him.

Harry was shocked at O’Brien’s conduct. He fought to remain on his flight path and on the
broomstick even if O’Brien kept on bumping him, but then he felt an arm go around his neck!
Furious, Harry snapped his head towards O’Brien to retaliate, but what he saw almost knocked him
off his broom by itself.

The Seeker was not from Hufflepuff, and he had a Death Eater mask on his face! It was a trap!
Knowing he was in extreme danger and all alone now, Harry punched an elbow on the Death Eater’s
ribs and tried to fight off the locked arm around his neck. Harry was precariously losing his grip
on his broomstick. He struggled to get free of the Death Eater’s grasp, but he was just too
strong.

Almost left with no air and with one more desperate effort before he passed out, Harry reached
for the Death Eaters neck and choked him from under the chin. He didn’t let go with the neck and
the broomstick with his other hand. The tide soon had turned against the Death Eater because he was
denied of air to his lungs much quicker. Harry took the opportunity to whisk his Firebolt away from
his attacker. He looked for his bearings, and accelerated to escape back to Hogwarts.

His attacker now used magic to catch Harry from behind. Taking out his wand, he whipped it like
a lasso and it caught Harry right around his arms and chest. He tried to take the lasso off him,
but it was impossible – it stuck to him like glue. Determined not to lose this fight, Harry
struggled to stay on his broomstick - his only ticket to safety back in Hogwarts, even if it meant
breaking his ribs by pulling the Death Eater all the way up to there. Hogwarts still looked tiny
from where he was; the lasso around his arms and chest was taking a toll on his strength like it
was also draining his energy gradually. He felt his consciousness ebbing away with every inch he
traveled. Still, Harry refused to get caught by the Death Eater and fought on stubbornly even if
his Firebolt was losing speed.

Finally, Harry’s hands didn’t have enough strength to grip his Firebolt and he saw the broom
fall to the ground ahead of him to a hollow in the Forest. Harry was now left hanging in midair by
the lasso, which the Death Eater held from up above. Fighting sleepiness, he saw a small clearing
in the middle of the Forbidden Forest up ahead where his Firebolt had landed, and a couple more
Death Eaters waiting for him at the middle of it. They were wearing the robes similar to what he
saw in the graveyard with Voldemort, and in Xanthius when he was there last.

Soon, he felt his feet brush against the grass jutting out of the snow. The Death Eater on the
broomstick snapped the rope off his wand (though the rope around Harry was still binding him) and
he slumped on the ground. To weak to resist, he felt some hands grab his arm and drag him to
another spot in the clearing. He heard laughter all around him – laughter of sweet success,
laughter for his defeat. Harry couldn’t believe after suspecting all along the Snitch was tampered
with, he still fell for the trap.

The Death Eaters had him at last for Voldemort, Harry thought, and there was no one around to
help him now.

-o0o-

Chapter 14 coming soon. *New messages from the author will be posted on top of this chapter,
so you may want to check it out to know when to expect the next chapter would be coming out. Again,
I thank you for reading this story.*



15. Reunion of Friends
----------------------



*Author's note: Thanks very much to Ridxwan again* *for reviewing, and also to*
*the anonymous reviewer!* *I'm glad* *to know* *the st**ory is going well
for you both, and hopefully for the others**, too.* *We're approaching the* *-
uhm - let's just say, the ***shocker**** *of this story**, which*
*will lead to the* *eventual climax* *a few chapters down the road**. I think it
will* *now* *be revealed in the very next chap**ter, according to my estimates.*
*O**ur heroes* *after that* *have a* *very difficult* *t**ime in
their hands**.* *There**'**s your* *“**preview**”**!
(grin).*

*Please tell me what you think about this chapter by leaving a review (**as usual,*
*I think it's a little lousy and still needs to be improved).* *You keep me guessing
when you're* *not* *reviewing (hehe**).*

**Chapter 14**

**Reunion** **of Friends**

Harry could barely open his eyes because the rope that bounded him had absorbed most of his
strength. He had expected to pass out already after being bound for a long time but the spell
seemed to have reached its apex, as if it was not meant to be powerful enough to entirely put
anyone to sleep. He was still conscious and he could still think well, but still the power of the
rope prevented him from doing anything to at least try to escape.

He opened his heavy eyelids as he lay full down on the snow-covered but grassy hollow, and
through the gaps between the grasses he could blurrily make out three people approaching him. Soon,
he felt being pulled up to his feet. Being too weak to move, the gravity was simply too
overwhelming for him to even resist. He could only move his eyes around to see what was going on
the Death Eaters dragged him towards the thick line of trees tens of yards away.

“This turned out to be easy after all,” laughed one Death Eater. “I thought we were still stuck
in this stinking place for four more weeks…good work on that spell, Dwight.”

“Yeah, it'll be good to be back on friendly ground,” replied Dwight. “The Dark Lord will
surely honor us after this - I can smell it! I can't wait to see Bill's green face when we
get back to You-Know-What. But I should have used the Cruciatus Curse first - I really miss doing
that…”

“We're way ahead of schedule,” said the third, with a noticeable worry by the sound of his
voice. “We still have about a little more than ten minutes to go until the portal opens in the
middle of the hollow. Let's hide under those trees while we wait…”

“Look at the bright side - we've been working our arses off for months just to get Harry
Potter,” Dwight said. “What's ten more minutes?”

For Harry, ten more minutes meant more time for time for him to think of something to escape. Or
it was ten more minutes being bounded this energy-draining rope than what was necessary - he felt
like he was constantly at the verge to vomit but he could never throw it up.

“Eight minutes,” said a Death Eater.

“Look, two students on broomsticks!” Dwight said, pointing up towards the hollow. “D'you
think they'd spot us, Jake?”

“Not in a couple dozen feet,” replied the Death Eater named Jake confidently. “They'll be
gone in minute.”

With a ray of hope of being found and rescued, Harry tried to see who they were talking about.
How lucky would he be to have a chance of someone searching for him flying overhead, he thought.
His vision was still slightly blurry, but he could make out the two students who were slowly flying
in circles up in the bright grey sky. They look fuzzy because of his vision, but he swore one of
them had unmistakable bright red hair.

*“Could it be Ron?”* he prayed.

He hoped he was right, but Harry didn't know how to call him down - he tried to yell, but no
voice came out of him. For a few moments, the Death Eaters kept their silence, looking up at the
students on the broomsticks intently while Harry behind them desperately thought of a way to seize
his only hope for rescue's attention.

Harry then remembered how. After all the time they had not spoken to each other, he almost
entirely forgot he shared something with Ron, a gift that even Hermione could not understand but
wanted to possess, too.

Harry closed his eyes, and still hoping it was really Ron up there looking for him and that he
had put aside his hatred towards him to save his friend, he concentrated deeply.

*Ron,* *if you can hear me,* *I can see you from here…at the edge of a hollow…*
Harry thought hard, hoping he still had the power of telepathy with him.

*H-**Harry? Is that you?* *Which hollow? I can see too many from here.*

Encouraged by the result of his efforts, Harry opened his heavy eyelids again and frantically
looked for something to describe for Ron.

“Why aren't they leaving?” growled a Death Eater.

“What're you worried about, Jim?” laughed Jake. “Don't tell me two wet-nosed Hogwarts
pupils can take on three Death Eaters like us? Even one of them is a Mudblood!”

With Jake's description of the other, Harry knew the other student was Hermione. He would
have cried on the spot feeling happy - it was as if it was the long-sought for reunion he had
wished for after Ron had distanced himself from the trio, but Harry knew this was not a good time
to celebrate yet. Then, like another miracle, Harry saw a small herd of deer get out of the forest
to graze at the hollow. They were so brown it was impossible to spot them from straight above.

*“**The hollow with the deers**,* *Ron! The hollow with the
deers**!**”* Harry cried out inside his mind.

*“I see them**!* *Hang on, Harry, we're coming!**”* Ron said, and Harry
saw Ron and Hermione descend quickly and settled in the middle of the hollow. Harry knew that
wasn't a good move.

“Damn! How did they see us??? Let's show them who's boss!” barked Dwight. “Jake, stay
with Potter while we deal with those nosy little kids!”

*“Ron! Watch out! They're coming out to get you!* *Get out of there and find some
cover!**”*

“Hermione, Harry said they're coming out for us!” Ron urgently told Hermione.

“W-where? How many?” Hermione asked, dropping her broomstick. She anxiously looked around, her
wand extended pointlessly at the ready. The first curse flew between them, missing Ron by a couple
of inches and he ducked. Hermione hit the ground and tried to look where the curse had come from.
The startled deer galloped around the hollow in panic and fled back to the forest.

“From there!” Hermione pointed as another curse zoomed from the forest towards them, almost
hitting Ron again if he didn't fall down sideways to avoid it. “You all right, Ron?” she
yelled.

“Yeah! C'mon - let's make a run for it to the forest!” Ron grunted, standing back up. He
grabbed Hermione by the arm and pulled her up. “Run to the side!”

Hermione conjured a series of Shield Charms to at least give her and Ron some sort of protection
while they ran for cover to the trees, but she knew it was too weak to rely on. A well concentrated
curse shattered it, hitting her at the left shoulder. She fell down and shrieked in pain.

Ron had gone a few feet ahead of her. When he felt that Hermione's hand had slipped off his
grip, he got back to her, lifted her up from the ground, and supported her as she resumed running
in a slight limp.

“Just a little more toward the trees!” Ron panted, shielding Hermione from more curses with his
body. More poorly-lead and aimed curses whizzed dangerously close behind them. Ron shot a few of
his own while running full out, but they could not penetrate the thick spot of trees that the Death
Eaters have naturally used to their advantage. Each of them stumbled a few times, rendering them
dangerously stationary for a few brief seconds each time they fought to regain their footing. At
last, they had reached the edge of the hollow and quickly took cover behind a large tree. The last
curse had bounced off it and the Death Eaters had stopped shooting.

“You all right, Hermione?” Ron gasped, wiping his sweaty brow with his sleeve.

“My shoulder's just a little sore, but I can take it,” she winced, resting her head on the
trunk and closing her eyes to take back her breathing.

“C'mon, Harry still needs our help and we might lose them in the forest,” Ron said. “And
watch out for ambushes!”

Hermione nodded obediently at him. “Let's follow the edge of this hollow,” she said,
slightly weaker. “They're only a few yards from where we are…”

Cautiously but as quickly as they could, they moved at a crouch towards the place where the
curses came from earlier. But when they got within yards of it, the curses came zooming back. Ron
and Hermione instinctively hid behind the trees again for cover.

“Hermione, let's advance one after the other - once I get behind a tree you dart out as fast
as you can to another one - repeat until we get within fifty feet and we'll talk about our next
move again. I go first…” instructed Ron. Without waiting for her answer, he jumped out of his
hiding place, exchanging fire with the Death Eaters.

As soon Ron had successfully reached another tree and dove behind it for cover, Hermione popped
out next to gain more ground, wand blazing, and bracing for but praying against the possibility
she'd be hit. As she expected, the curses concentrated on her again, but she had safely reached
and hunkered down on a natural trench. She was now severely bruised where sharp twigs have ripped
her clothing, but she was ever so determined to get to Harry quickly.

Hermione sensed they were getting nearer to the Death Eaters, because she could see one of their
heads peeking out behind the roots within a few meters and hearing their voices. Frenetically
thinking of another good spell to use, she spotted a scared rabbit straying at the crossfire; she
then decided to use the poor creature for a while.

“Sorry, Bugs, but we need your help,” she whimpered after deciding on what to do.
“*Laconifi**rs*!”

The rabbit stopped abruptly under Hermione's spell and she hopped it to the spot where she
last saw the Death Eater hide his head. The rabbit leaped and disappeared over a thick root, and
she heard a scream from behind it. The rabbit had sunk its sharp nails deep on the Death
Eater's face! The Death Eater stood up in panic straight from cover and yelled in pain as he
tried desperately to remove the rabbit from his bloody cheek.

Hermione quickly took advantage of his vulnerable state and bellowed, “*Lartigo!*” A thin
electrifying whip shot out of her wand and clasped the Death Eater's leg, electrocuting him and
sending him to the ground, rendering him unconscious, and letting go of the rabbit.

Infuriated with Hermione's excellent marksmanship, the remaining Death Eaters began using
even more powerful curses because the tree she used for cover now shook very violently when the
spells slammed on it. They seemed to be venting their ire on Hermione now because were
concentrating their fire on her. The tree was subjected to a series of barrages that it threatened
to fall on down her any second. Hermione could not leave her spot without exposing herself to
danger and she held her head with both hands and screamed beneath the violence of it. Worse, the
tree was barely giving her enough cover and concealment.

Ron could not get out of his hiding spot more than twenty feet away to help her evacuate. He
decided he had to do something, quick! In a desperate move to draw the Death Eater's fire away
from Hermione, Ron popped out from behind his tree and bravely advanced towards the Death Eaters,
much to Hermione's horror and surprise. She had not seen him take on something like this that
threatened his life.

Shortly she heard Ron yell in pain as a curse had hit him squarely on his chest when he charged.
Ron fell and slumped to the ground heavily, and he ceased to move.

“RON!!!” Hermione screamed. Disregarding her relative safety by getting out of cover, she ran
towards Ron to check on him. “Ron, speak to me!” she wailed, but Ron's eyes looked on blankly
ahead, and he looked lifeless. “RON!!! P-please don't be dead!”

When she tried to reach for his wrist to feel his pulse, she heard running footsteps from behind
her. It was too late for her to react.

She felt a raspy hand grasp her neck and it lifted her back painfully away from Ron. She
didn't know where the enraged Death Eater had come from and he threw her hard against a trunk
of a tree, pinning her still by the neck. She was rapidly losing breath; she tried to point her
wand at him, but he wrested and threw it away from her. Teeth gritting, Hermione fought, kicked,
scratched, and struggled to wrench off from his grip. She glanced at the jet black murderous eyes
beneath the mask of the frightening Death Eater.

“Prepare to die now, Mudblood!” growled the livid Death Eater; he pointed the tip of his wand on
Hermione's temple. Hermione closed her eyes in scared anticipation to die like the Death Eater
had threatened, but seconds had past and no curse had been muttered. Bewildered, she opened her
eyes and she saw the Death Eater again - he didn't feel menacing anymore. In fact, there was
terror drawn in his eyes as he looked beyond her back. Hermione didn't understand why.

“Run for it!!!” the Death Eater screamed, and he let go of Hermione's neck. She fell down to
the ground and coughed for air. Looking around while she regained her breathing, she watched the
Death Eaters running and yelling away in panic, one of them carrying their unconscious comrade.
They disappeared deep in the Forbidden Forest.

Hermione didn't think of finding out what they had fled from because she remembered Harry at
once. She ran to the spot where she thought he was, and with a breath of relief, she saw him lying
down on the ground, bound but still breathing. She ran over to him and removed the rope
magically.

“Harry! You okay?” she breathed, helping Harry lie down upright.

Harry stared at her and nodded weakly.

“Thank goodness! You wait here for a minute - I got to check on Ron, okay? He's hurt
bad!”

“Okay,” croaked Harry.

Hermione again ran back to Ron's spot - soon she stopped dead on her tracks when she saw
Dumbledore walking towards her and already carrying an unconscious Ron on his arms.

“Miss Granger, Ron's alive, but please help me bring the boys to the hospital wing
immediately!” Dumbledore said calmly. “We must not stay a second too long here - I reckon there
might be more of them.”

Hermione nodded gratefully at him, and she felt relieved for the first time that she didn't
have to deal with the Death Eaters alone anymore now that Dumbledore had come just in time scare
them off, saving her from possible death. She quickly ran back to where she had dropped the
broomsticks she got from Madam Hooch's broom shed earlier. She scooped them up and doubled
back, fortunately finding Harry's Firebolt along the way, too.

Since she wasn't strong enough to lift Harry on her own back to Hogwarts, she strapped him
securely on a conjured stretcher mounted on his Firebolt.

“Very good thinking. Ready to go now, Hermione?” asked Dumbledore, and Hermione nodded.
Dumbledore slung Ron over his shoulders and got on Ron's broomstick.

Shortly, a portal opened in the middle of the hollow and a few people poured out of it, but
Dumbledore and Hermione were already at a safe distance escaping towards Hogwarts they didn't
see the portal.

-o0o-

“Harry's stirring,” Hermione breathed excitedly in the hospital wing. Dumbledore and Madam
Pomfrey quickly walked beside Harry's bed. Ron, meanwhile, tried to get off his bed to see how
Harry was.

Madam Pomfrey flashed a light and checked on Harry's eyes. Harry found the light too intense
for him after being out cold for a long time and avoided staring at it, much to Madam Pomfrey's
delight.

“He's not blind, thank goodness,” she breathed. “Victims of the spell like the one used on
Harry usually only see blackness for the rest of their lives.”

“Harry, you okay?” Hermione asked him, brushing his messy hair gently with her hand. She wore a
sling around her left arm.

“I am now,” Harry said happily but still significantly weak. “I thought they had me back there -
thanks to you…hey, where's Ron?”

“I'm right here, mate,” winced Ron, walking slowly towards Harry's bedside. He had a
bandage wrapped around his chest, and he looked weak. “I'm glad you're back - Look, Harry,
I'm sorry for everything…” he added meekly.

“No, forget it, Ron,” Harry said gently.

“I didn't try to save you just to make it up to you…”

“You don't have to prove anything,” Harry grinned with effort. “But thanks for trying to
save me - I knew we could still count on you…”

“I'm very sorry for all the things I've said to you and Hermione…”

“I said forget it…”

“I don't blame you for hating me a lot - I've been an ungrateful and humongous prat. If
you don't want me back, I can understand…”

“*Ron!”* Harry and Hermione bellowed together, and Ron fell quiet.

“I said it's okay,” Harry assured and smiled again. “Forget it. I'm really glad
we're back as a trio again…aren't we?”

“Me, too,” Hermione added. “We missed you, Ron.”

Ron inhaled deeply and let out a happy gush of air out of his lungs. “Yeah…yeah, thanks to both
of you for having me back,” he said, looking at both Harry and Hermione cheerfully. “You two are
the best - you've always been! How about it?” He extended his hand, which Harry and Hermione
took. Then they went into a group hug. Dumbledore looked on at the three friends with extreme
satisfaction.

Hermione, meanwhile, was obviously overjoyed that they were at peace again with Ron that she
laughed and had become teary eyed.

“Harry,” she sniffed, squeezing his hand, “You know, I thought we already lost you to Voldemort.
I knew there was something wrong with the Snitch - I was about to go after you myself, but Ron
stopped me and asked what was wrong. I told him what I thought was happening and he said you needed
our help. We raided Madam Hooch's broomstick cupboard together - when the Snitch had returned
and you weren't back…” she then trailed off and cried, but stopped when Harry took her hand and
kissed it.

“Boundless loyalty from your best friends is one of the most wonderful things,” Dumbledore
chuckled, “after love, of course.”

“Professor Dumbledore,” Harry said, startled at the first sight of him. “I'm so sorry I
goofed…”

“No need to apologize, Harry,” Dumbledore chuckled. “It wasn't your fault…I reckon you had
no choice but to catch the Snitch before the other team did or else Miss Johnson would have ripped
your head off.”

“It's *me* who's going to rip her head off, sir,” growled Hermione. “She was the
Quidditch Captain, and she should have known Snitches aren't supposed to get out of the pitch -
the referee will declare the game suspended if it does. I didn't really hear what she said to
Harry, but I saw her egging him on to chase after the Snitch. If she hadn't…”

“Calm down, Hermione,” interrupted Dumbledore, smiling. “Please calm down. Angelina, I think,
can be easily forgiven. She didn't have a single clue about the plot at all. With her innate
desire to stay ahead of the race for Gryffindor, she did what captains had to do and pushed Harry
to keep going after the after Snitch.” He clicked his tongue and shook his head. “I'm just
thankful we have Harry back again alive. We must watch out for the future, though we must also
learn from our past mistakes and do better than to fall into more traps.”

“Professor Russelpunk is an accessory, Headmaster,” said Harry. “He's probably
Voldemort's asset here along with the Death Eaters…”

“Hermione already told me about that, Harry. I will have a word with him soon - when I think
it's safe to do so…”

“Then why can't we have him arrested, Headmaster?” demanded Hermione. “We saw him doing
something to the Snitch inside the ball room…”

“Not until we're certain he did cause the Snitch to act the way it did today,” Dumbledore
sighed, “and not until we have more incriminating evidence against him. We can't just bring him
in to the Ministry - knowing Fudge, he will dismiss it without question and his wizards won't
do anything unless he approves of it. He just refuses to buy anything that would suggest Lord
Voldemort is out to get Harry, much more believe that he's even back. I'll investigate
Russelpunk, I promise you, and you must trust me on this. At the same time as a precaution, I must
also ask you not go near him except for your Defence Against the Dark Arts class.”

Harry, Hermione, and Ron nodded, but with extreme disappointment.

“Hermione, you're hurt!” Harry said when he finally noticed her sling.

“This'll come off tonight,” she replied, feeling happy knowing Harry was concerned of her.
She sat beside him on the hospital bed. “Despite what happened, I'm so glad you're safe
again, Harry. Professor Dumbledore's been right all along - now that we know Voldemort's
really after you, we must be extra careful this. I'll be always at your side, Harry…”

“Ditto,” added Ron. “Only if that bloody two-man rule is history, I think…Hermione proved to be
a better protector for you than I am so I think you're better off with her than with me for a
while.”

“No, I'm not,” Hermione laughed slightly. “Look what happened to Harry…even if you sometimes
don't make sense with your ideas, Ron, I think he would've been safer with you…” she then
went quiet and bowed her head. Ron didn't take offense with what Hermione had said - he knew
that was a good sign that he's back to normal terms with her and Harry.

“Hermione, are you blaming yourself with what happened to me?” Harry said quietly.

Hermione stared at Harry, pursed her lips, and new tears fell down on her cheeks. She
couldn't talk any further and she merely nodded to answer his question. Harry didn't know
what to say, but fortunately Dumbledore spoke for him.

“No one is to be blamed for what happened to Harry today, Hermione,” Dumbledore told her gently,
and she looked at him, still teary eyed. “Sometimes even the most powerful and wisest wizards do
fall to all kinds of traps and deceit from their evil foes. We're all not immune to that, but
the least we can do to correct it is to pro-act and deal with the results of our mistakes head on
with the best of our abilities, and to learn from that experience. You and Ron did just that today.
You were not losers at all - you've all emerged as wiser wizards. You three have constantly
exceeded my expectations for years, and that's why I'm again extremely proud and impressed
with what you've done today.”

“Well, well, well,” Cornelius Fudge interrupted as he entered the hospital wing with Horace
Whipple, Seymour, and Dinky. “I see a bunch of injured students today.” He stared at Hermione with
her many cuts, bruises, and the prominent sling she was wearing, then at Harry and Ron. “That
doesn't look like the usual class accident, does it? I've been hearing rumors they got into
a fight outside Hogwarts with outsiders. Would you care to explain what's going on around here,
or are you losing control of your students' safety and welfare now, Albus? They're not
supposed to end up in the Forbidden Forest at the first place…”

Dumbledore narrowed his eyes at Fudge. Though Fudge did his best not to look unfazed by it, he
shook ever so slightly it was noticeable.

“Oh, that's not true at all, Cornelius,” Dumbledore said calmly, his facial expression
relaxing a little. “We already have too many security wizards sent by you to make sure that
*never* happens, don't we?”

“What's that supposed to mean, Albus?” Fudge shot back.

“Harry Potter here,” Dumbledore explained, “was lured by three unknown Death Eaters by rigging
the Snitch to take him far from Hogwarts. They almost kidnapped him for Lord Voldemort, if not for
the gallant efforts of Miss Granger and Mr. Weasley to save him. I'm very certain those three
wizards were part of your own contingent, as I have pointed out to you before…”

Fudge rolled his eyes and looked as if he thought Dumbledore was making up more stories about
the return of Voldemort.

“Ha! Another likely story from you, old man,” he laughed. “Death Eaters from the Ministry - how
preposterous! You're truly getting more senile as I've suspected all along. In the first
place, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named is history, and there are absolutely no Death Eaters alive today to
speak of, much less near around Hogwarts.”

Whipple and the rest of the wizards murmured in agreement.

“What happened today was the Hogwarts Snitch had malfunctioned.” Fudge pressed on. “Potter
chased after it - and you sure got a good excuse to whip up this cock and bull story…how
convenient. Now I challenge you - did you identify the three wizards who were the so called Death
Eaters, hmm? Potter? Granger?”

“I didn't see their faces, sir,” Harry replied, “They had their Death Eater masks on, but
they had the name of Dwight, Jake, and…sorry, I forgot the last one…”

“Ho!” Fudge guffawed. “The usual excuse - Death Eater masks…overused.”

“And we don't have wizards named Dwight and Jake in our roster,” said Whipple.

“There you go!” Fudge said triumphantly.

“Then they must be using aliases,” Dumbledore suggested.

“Yes, so Whipple, Seymour, and I are the Weird Sisters,” Fudge snorted, but stopped abruptly
after realizing he called himself something unpleasant. “Oh, make that Burton, not me…” Fudge
referred to Seymour's partner who Harry had called `Dinky' ever since.

“But we saw them, Minister,” Hermione then said, peeved about Fudge's hard headedness. “We
fought them - and we almost got killed!”

“I didn't ask you a question, girl!” Fudge snapped at her. He paused for a second while he
stared at her. “But now that you mentioned it, you have quite a fertile imagination to tell such
stories, too, like your crazy Headmaster here. You, miss, should be lucky I'm not in a bad mood
today. Otherwise, what you said was enough to send you to Azkaban for suggesting You-Know-Who's
active with his Death Eaters. I suggest you read the emergency law if you have time.”

Hermione went red on her face; Harry tugged on her sleeve to calm her down.

“You have testimony coming from your honorary member of the Ministry of Magic, Cornelius,”
Dumbledore said. “Shouldn't you take what she says seriously? After all, you personally signed
her certificate early this term.”

Fudge took another scathing look at her, and said, “Then I revoke it!”

Hermione's certificate at the head of her bed back at the Gryffindor tower burst into flames
at the same time, making Lavender Brown splash a pitcher full of water on it in panic.

“I don't really need it, *sir*,” Hermione countered, feeling extremely insulted.

“One more word from you like that, girl, and you're going to Azkaban!” Fudge threatened.
Hermione moved and sat on another bed, and folded her arms defiantly. Dumbledore winked at her to
tell her to keep her cool from now own.

“I see power has intoxicated you many times over, Cornelius,” said Dumbledore coolly. “I'm
so disappointed with you - I had high hopes for you…”

“I don't owe you my job, Albus,” growled Fudge. “And it's none of your business how I do
it, nor you can tell me what I do. I'll be personally overseeing the running of this school for
a few more days, Albus. I'll be watching you very closely and pray I don't find anything on
you that will cause your dismissal or suspension.”

“Of course, Cornelius, do anything you want as usual,” Dumbledore said, bowing his head curtly.
“That's what you really wanted all along, didn't you? And may I know who's helming the
Ministry of Magic when you're here in Hogwarts?” asked serenely. “Let me guess…Lucius,
perhaps?”

Fudge's face turned purple, but he didn't say anything else further and whipped around
to walk out of the hospital wing. “Whipple, Seymour, Burton…” he called. In a few seconds, they
were gone, and Dumbledore slammed the hospital doors loudly with his flick of his wand and turned
to Harry, Ron, and Hermione with a huge smile.

“Harry,” he said, turning serious again, “I got to go and meet with the faculty. I'm very
sorry I cannot be at your side all the time as much as I want to, so must ask you to be even more
vigilant around you - and that includes you Ron, and Hermione. Don't keep Harry off from your
sight as much as possible, but at the same time remember not to get caught being a trio. I
don't want you to give them an excuse to separate anyone of you from Harry. I'm betting my
own Pheonix they planned for this rule to be enforced because they know of you three. Do I have
your word?”

Ron and Hermione nodded at him; Dumbledore then took his leave. They all looked at each other
next, knowing very well that their situation had not improved at all and that they were still in
extreme danger.

Harry frowned. “I can't believe he's leaving us all over again after what happened! Do
you really think Dumbledore will closely watch Russelpunk like he said?”

“If he said so,” Hermione replied, “then there's nothing we can do but trust him. He's
never failed us before, right?”

“Yeah, I know, but he hasn't really lent us a hand directly, either.”

“But you heard what Dumbledore said, right?” said Hermione. “He told us we had exceeded all of
his expectations. That means he trusts we could look after and protect ourselves - I think
we're not little kids anymore and we don't need constant attention from him…”

“What if we don't get lucky next time?” Harry ranted. “Do we really need to take ourselves
that far and then he acts too late? I think he's too overconfident. I just wish he could just
kill Voldemort for everybody for once, and then we'll all have peace…”

Ron murmured in agreement.

“Harry, you're sounding like a spoiled brat,” Hermione said, managing to smile.

“Sorry,” he whispered, and calming down instantly. “But we can't just sit by here and do
nothing. There's still something we can do. We could keep an eye on Russelpunk - I feel
he's the most important leak to everything going on around here. He's going to do something
else again, maybe tonight - I can smell it.”

“But, Harry!” Hermione said severely. “You heard what Dumbledore said - he doesn't want us
near him at all except for classes…”

“We can then use the Marauders Map,” Ron suggested.

“Oh, yeah. Thanks, Ron,” said Harry. “I'm interested what we can find in his office, too.
Maybe we could learn what he's hiding from there, or get something to incriminate him…”

“Me, too!” Ron said. “Count me in.”

Hermione, however, was slightly hesitant to concur with that idea. “Harry, the Marauders Map, I
can agree with. But breaking in his office - I don't know. I have a bad feeling about
that.”

“What's wrong with you?” Ron said irritably. “Chickening out?”

Hermione threw him a scathing look. “All I'm trying to say, *Ronald,* is that Harry
charging around in Hogwarts after being almost kidnapped to spy on Russelpunk - I think - is the
most reckless thing to do at the moment!” She then gazed at Harry, who wore a thwarted look on his
face.

“Let's just not get too feisty to be so careless when inside Russelpunk's office, okay?”
she said a moment later, and smiled.

-o0o-

Inside the third floor boy's restroom that night beside the row of cubicles Harry, Ron, and
Hermione sat around on the cold tile floors watching the Marauder's Map in order to see what
Russelpunk was up to tonight. They've been doing this for more than an hour past nine against
the curfew rules, hoping to see the DADA teacher do something out of the ordinary again. Hermione
wasn't at all optimistic, though, because if she were in Russelpunk's shoes, she'd lie
low after that botched attempt to kidnap Harry. But still, they knew Russelpunk most likely
didn't have a clue that he was being suspected as an accessory - that is, unless Dumbledore had
confronted him already. To fight the boredom of staking out, Hermione entertained herself by
shooting affectionate glances at Harry, whose face was only a few inches away from hers. He
didn't know Hermione wasn't giving attention to all the dots that crawled endlessly on the
Marauder's Map.

Hermione strongly admired Harry's toughness. Harry had been subjected to another attempt
that would have led to his death in the hands of Voldemort. Any kid like his age (or even older)
who had gone through the same thing would most probably hide under the sheets of his bed for the
rest of his life, but not Harry. There was a strong sense of determination drawn on his face and a
very strong proactive attitude to help solve this case. It was this that inspired Hermione to press
on, and at the same she became even more attracted to Harry.

Harry, meanwhile, was very glad their cold war with Ron was over. Impressively, they did well of
forgetting very quickly about their growing hatred towards each other as their war dragged on. It
was now as if they had not fought at all. This was the one bright spot they had in weeks where
everything seemed to go from bad to worse - it was one less problem to worry about.

“This is silly,” whined Ron, which made Hermione snap off from her trance. “It's absolutely
pointless to be under the cloak while we're inside this lavatory - I mean, nobody can see us.”
When he started to remove the cloak, Hermione grappled it with her hands.

“Ron, don't!” she hissed towards Ron's floating head. “What if one of them wizards came
in to took a look inside? We'll all be in big trouble!”

Harry murmured in agreement, nodding his head at Ron. Ron, knowing what Hermione said was true,
couldn't do anything about it now except roll his eyes and replace the cloak begrudgingly above
his head.

“You know, I wish we hadn't asked Dumbledore to investigate Russelpunk just yet,” Harry
mused. “We might just be staring at the map all night when Russelpunk had gotten too cautious…”

“Pardon me,” Hermione replied, looking annoyed, “but I don't agree with that at all. I'm
sure Dumbledore knows how to deal with cases like these…”

“He's moving again!” announced Ron. Harry and Hermione dropped their growing argument and
eagerly watched the dot labeled as `Russelpunk' move out of the DADA classroom. Several more
dots were concentrated in a large room next to the DADA classroom, which Hermione knew was the
meeting room for the security wizards where they were currently holding their nightly debriefing. A
few other dots labeled with surnames of people Harry thought he never knew but surmised as
belonging to patrolling security wizards and some prefects moving about the corridors (Seymour and
Burton were among them).

“C'mon, c'mon, do something suspicious!” muttered Harry under his breath.

Russelpunk slowly walked out his classroom and stopped momentarily beside the door of the
meeting room, and then moved again to the general direction of Seymour's office. This was what
Harry, Ron, and Hermione were waiting for practically the whole night. They had a good feeling the
professor was now up to no good again.

“I'm in no doubt he's giving it another try with Seymour's office now,” Hermione
grinned. “Ready to go, Ron? You don't have to do this, really.”

“But I insist!” Ron said hotly.

“Got the other ear with you, Ron?” Harry asked.

Ron held out his hand from under the cloak and made a thumbs-up sign. “I'll be nearby
Seymour's door…bye!”

“Be careful,” reminded Hermione. “Don't do anything stupid.”

Harry and Hermione watched Ron walk briskly towards Seymour's office, which was only a few
corridors away. In fact, he was moving a little bit too fast.

“Take it easy out there - you might trip,” Hermione snarled quietly at the Extended Ear, and
then Ron's dot went significantly slower. “Over eager, he is,” she commented.

Soon, Ron had reached the corridor outside the office ahead of Russelpunk and stopped.

“That's it, Ron,” said Harry. “That's a good spot. I'll warn you if I see somebody
else coming your way. Russelpunk's just around the corner and you will see him soon.”

But Russelpunk didn't turn on the corner and went straight ahead to another section of the
wing instead.

“Now, where's he going?” Hermione asked Harry.

Clueless like she was, Harry just shrugged and said, “Do you think we'll send Ron over where
he's going, too?”

Hermione nodded instantly.

“Okay, Ron, get to where you saw Russelpunk last and turn right,” Harry instructed. “I'll
guide you for the next turn.”

Ron's dot moved at once and rounded the right corner. Staring back at Russelpunk's dot,
it had stopped beside another room Harry knew as McGonagall's office, which Horace Whipple had
made his own. Ron had obviously seen Russelpunk get in the room because his dot moved carefully
along the walls towards it.

“Now this is interesting,” muttered Hermione. “I believe Russelpunk may be trying to break in to
offices other than Seymour's all the time, isn't he?”

Harry nodded. He knew that was possible because he had only seen him try to get in Seymour's
office that it didn't occur to him it was the only one he was after. What was more interesting
was it was Whipple's office right now he was breaking into. What was even more peculiar was
that Russelpunk didn't stay long by the door and entered straight in. Harry concentrated too
much on Russelpunk's dot that he didn't see Whipple's in the center of the room where
McGonagall's desk was located. Worse, Ron had gotten in the ante room, and Harry fumbled with
the Extended Ear.

“Ron, get out of there! Whipple's inside!” Good thing Ron didn't resist, and his dot
quickly went out the door and stayed out the corridor. Harry blew out a breath; he still wasn't
sure if Whipple could see under the cloak yet and he didn't want to find out the hard way.

“Russelpunk's getting in Whipple's office…” Hermione said, scowling. “I'm now sure
they're working with each other - and Whipple's a true Death Eater.”

“I'm not surprised,” Harry replied, still watching the map attentively.

Russelpunk stopped in front of Whipple's dot for few seconds, and walked slowly around him.
Harry and Hermione both deduced they were talking.

“Russelpunk's probably taking instructions from Whipple right now!” grunted Harry, his eyes
narrowing. “Why, that…that bloody traitor…”

“Shhhhh!!!” Hermione said, glaring at Harry. “Keep it down…”

After a few more minutes, Russelpunk had finally started to move out of Whipple's office.
Harry notified Ron of his movement and instructed him again to follow Russelpunk. Soon, the
professor had reached Seymour's office and had managed to get in.

“He's in!” Hermione said, surprised. “Looks like he didn't have a hard time unlocking
the door this time around. I think Whipple told him how to get in Seymour's office - but
why?”

“Let's talk about that later,” he said, and then told Ron, “Ron, if you think it's safe,
try to see what he's doing inside Seymour's office…”

Ron obeyed, and had gotten in the office. However, Russelpunk looked as if he was finished doing
what he wanted to do because he was already on his way out. Russelpunk and Ron' dot was about
to converge dangerously.

“Ron, watch out - He's getting out!” Harry exclaimed. Ron had stopped and shunted to the
side, and Russelpunk also went stationary. Sweat fell down on Harry's face as he shockingly
stared at the map - Russelpunk might have caught Ron!

Harry stood up and tried for the door, and Hermione grabbed his hand and pulled him back. “What
do you think you're doing???” she hissed.

“Russelpunk might be killing him right now,” Harry panted.

Hermione looked back at map and the two dots stayed where they are and said, “Okay, I'm not
afraid of Russelpunk - let's get him!”

Harry and Hermione then walked out of the rest room quickly. They both agreed without talking
that they had nothing to lose if they confronted the teacher together. He was a Death Eater posing
as a DADA teacher, and they would duel with him if they had to!

It was fortunate they had not encountered any patrolling wizard out the corridors and reached
Seymour's office door in a couple of minutes. Harry and Hermione stopped beside the door, and
took out their wands.

“Ready for this?” Harry asked, and Hermione nodded at him determinedly.

The moved in quickly. Expecting to blaze away with their wands against Russelpunk, Harry and
Hermione froze when they found the office empty. “What the…”

Ron had emerged from under the cloak down on the floor, just inches away from the door. “Harry -
Hermione…” he said, surprised at seeing them both.

“Ron, you okay?” Harry said, leaping towards and bending down beside him. “What happened -
where's Russelpunk?”

“I tripped and fell down to avoid Russelpunk bumping onto me,” said Ron, looking
embarrassed.

“Did he see you?” Harry asked.

“Don't worry, he didn't,” assured Ron, standing up and rolling the cloak with his arms.
“He almost did, though. Stopped and looked around for a long time - but then he hurried out. Sorry,
it was too late to see what he was up to inside this office - Hey! what're you two doing
here…we're all going to get caught!”

Harry ignored Ron, and looked around the office for other interesting clues. Seymour's
office looked different from what he'd seen from the transom above. It was dark inside - the
heavily varnished wooden walls drowned out the light of the few candles that were still lit. It was
hard to walk around, too. There were many carton boxes tucked against the walls, but the thing that
always stood out was the chest just behind the desk. Harry didn't understand why he felt so
strongly drawn by the chest to see what was inside, and perhaps it was the very thing that made it
significant. Harry noticed that its latch was broken and Russelpunk didn't bother to fix it
back.

He opened it. But, alas! He found it empty - although it was startling to have a strong breeze
gushing out from inside the chest. It blew his hair back, and he heard the hair-raising cries of a
hundred ghosts.

“N-now, that's scary!” Hermione shuddered a couple of yards behind Harry.

“Looks like Russelpunk took everything,” Harry said, shivering, too. “I thought he was going to
rig whatever was inside this trunk like what he did back at the Quidditch stadium.”

“I think we'll need to take a look at his office, right?” added Ron. “If he took out what
was inside the chest, he'll most likely keep it there. I do remember him tucking something
inside his robes when he dashed out.”

Harry nodded and paused for a moment to blow out some air, feeling letdown from finding nothing
tonight. They had spent too much time in the office more than what was necessary just to take Ron
out. Closing the chest he said, “What do you reckon was inside this chest, Hermione?”

She didn't answer.

“Ron?”

“H-Harry,” Ron said from behind him nervously. “Better take a look at this…”

Harry turned around and almost lost his balance. Seymour and Burton was at the doorway, both
staring forebodingly at him, Ron, and Hermione.

-o0o-

The sound of broken glass inside Lucius' den literally rang throughout the entire Malfoy
Manor where he had a heated meeting with Campion, Lucius' right hand man. He was extremely
furious of the lost chance to wrap up their task by capturing Harry Potter today.

“WHAT??? They had him in their grasp and still they failed to bring him in?” roared Lucius.
“And, bloody hell! They couldn't fend off two students, too? Incompetent fools!!!”

“Actually, sir,” Campion said slowly, “They almost defeated Potter's friends but…”

“BUT WHAT??? It was only Weasel and the Mudblood!”

“But they said Dumbledore had entered the fray…and you know how daunting he is when his eyes get
fiery blue…”

Lucius slammed his cane on his office table too hard it split into two, though deep inside he
understood that nobody knew how to deal with Dumbledore head on - even his own master, Lord
Voldemort, is said to be scared of him, too.

“That bloody old meddlesome fossil!” he cursed. “What do we do now? What do we do now? Surely
Harry Potter will be now more difficult to reach - he knows we're out to get him…”

Campion remained silent. Lucius walked back and forth around his den, desperately looking for a
new scheme in his head to accomplish what they had prepared for so long. Those inept Death Eaters
who he ordered to do the job in the Forbidden Forest essentially botched the whole operation. He
dreaded foremost what the Dark Lord would do to him once he knew he could not deliver Harry Potter
to him at all despite his repeated assurances that it was easy.

“What happened to the three Death Eaters?” he asked shortly. “Have there identities been
compromised?”

“Not at all, sir,” Campion replied. “They've gone back to Hogwarts under Whipple. In my
opinion, pulling them out will be highly unadvisable.”

Lucius nodded. “You're right, Campion, and it's entirely not their fault if Dumbledore
foiled their assignment,” he conceded, finally calming down a bit. “The only danger to this
operation is when Fudge would realize there are indeed Death Eaters in his ranks. Luckily he's
still clueless, I hear. Everyone must ensure their identities remain hidden at all times. Is that
understood?”

“By your command, sir.”

Lucius nodded and breathed deeply and tried to relax in order to think much better as he stared
out of his window, watching the snow fall. Minutes have past and neither Lucius and Campion said
anything.

Then bit by bit the ideas came in, until they flooded Lucius brilliant - but evil - imagination.
He organized all his thoughts and weighed all the pros and cons of every though he considered. He
reached a decision at last.

He turned back to Campion, who looked woefully worried as he sat on the guest chair. “Don't
fret - I'll fully disregard what happened - I know what we'll do now,” he said, grinning
mischievously. “Our people are still in place, so there's still a chance.”

Campion sat up straighter on his chair, encouraged by Lucius' leadership skills. His
immediate boss had his flaws and not all of his plans worked to the “T”. But he knew Lucius very
well as a man who could quickly think of excellent ways to correct even the most insurmountable of
problems. Lucius, at the moment, was at his element.

“I believe our preparations won't be for naught if we do this right,” Lucius declared.
“Fudge will be easy to influence, as always. He'll agree to a status quo, plus a special
request of mine I'm sure he can't refuse. But we must move quickly and decisively,
otherwise we'll never get Potter anymore. Listen to me carefully with my new plan, and after
that go and assemble the team - I reckon we need the help of our lovely pets for this one…”

After listening closely to Lucius' detailed instructions, Campion could feel it in his bones
that this time they will surely succeed.

-o0o-

*Chapter 15 coming soon.* *I hope this chapter was not a let down especially after last
chapter's cliffy, because a few more things still need to happen.* *Trust me
(wink).*

*New messages from the author will be posted on top of this chapter, so you may want to check
it* *out* *to know when to expect the next chapter would be coming out. Again, I thank
you for reading this story.*

-->



16. Dumbledore's Departure
--------------------------

*Author’s note: Thanks, Potter’s Princess for your review! I appreciate it! Here’s the next
part of the story. Enjoy! (I hope)*

*Warning: Parts of this chapter may contain graphic content.*

**Chapter 15**

**Dumbledore’s Departure**

The feeling inside Seymour’s office was very edgy. Harry, Ron, and Hermione all froze and stared
at Seymour and Burton, their minds uncharacteristically idle out of shock. The two wizards had
entered deeper in the room and closed the door behind them, making Harry, Ron, and Hermione move
closer to each other for protection, though not one of them had held their wands out.

After a few more tense moments of staring around, Seymour finally broke the silence.

“Would anyone of you care to explain why you three’re inside my office this late at night?” he
asked, in surprisingly calm manner. Seymour didn’t growl, but he wasn’t smiling either.

Nobody in the trio knew how to answer and they chose to keep quiet.

Seymour sighed. “You’re lucky Whipple wasn’t the one who caught you all three in here together,
otherwise you’d be expelled outright.”

Harry and Ron glanced at each other.

“What do you mean, Judas?” Burton asked, looking confused beside him. “Aren’t we going to turn
them in for illegal entry?”

Seymour shot a slow and impatient gaze towards his partner and said, “Of course we’re not going
to turn them in, dung brain – what do you think’s gonna happen if Whipple has Potter all to
himself, huh?”

Burton’s face went bright with delayed comprehension. “Oh, yeah. Sorry, Boss…”

“Peter here is a little slow up here,” Seymour explained to Harry, snickering and tapping a
finger on his own forehead. Harry, Ron, and Hermione, didn’t change their looks on their
expressionless faces, though.

Sensing that the mood hadn’t changed with the kids yet, Seymour spoke again. “Please, don’t be
afraid of us – we’re part of Whipple’s little army but I assure you, we’re no Death Eaters like him
and the others…”

“Then how do you know we’re even thinking of you like that?” Hermione tested.

“It’s because we’ve been in on the case for months and we’ve been working very hard to confirm
who’re the Death Eaters within the group and who’s clean…we’ve made good progress, you know…”

“You mean you’re with Olga and Ramius?” Ron asked eagerly, but Hermione punched an elbow on his
arm.

“Ron! Shut up! Don’t say anything they don’t know!!!” she scolded him.

Seymour nodded on Ron’s question anyway. “If you mean Olga Gargarin and her partner Palkov,
yes.”

“Then if you really know them,” Harry spoke this time, but watched Seymour and Burton firmly,
“where are they now?”

“I’m sorry, I can’t answer that,” Seymour heaved a sigh. “Practically the whole Ministry is
looking for them, and we had no contact with them ever since they went into hiding. We’ve been very
good friends and she often repeated there was a possible plot to infiltrate Death Eaters in
Hogwarts for a specific purpose. When she disappeared, I took it upon myself to continue her work
by volunteering for Whipple’s team. I feel lucky I got picked, but the problem is, even if we knew
who the Death Eaters were already we don’t know who to tell in the Ministry. We’re not sure if our
chief is even clean or not…”

There was a long pause while Harry considered Seymour’s statement. Hermione also was deep in
thought like him, apparently deliberating the same. Burton walked behind the desk, passing by
Hermione who was nearest to his path.

“Looks like your chest had been tampered with, Boss,” Burton said, gawking at the broken lock.
He then turned to Harry, Ron, and Hermione. “Did any of you three do this?”

“No,” Harry replied. “Somebody else did.”

“May I know who it was, Mr. Potter?” inquired Seymour politely. Harry, however, didn’t feel like
answering because he was not yet convinced of Seymour’s story.

“Mr. Potter, please trust me, we’re on your side and we want to protect you from Whipple – he’s
one of the Death Eaters, I can testify to that.”

“I’m sorry, Mr. Seymour, but I’m not entirely inclined to believe you that easily,” Harry said
determinedly. “So, what’re you waiting for? You have me! You could bring me to Voldemort right now
– I’m not afraid of him!”

Seymour just looked at Harry sadly.

“Harry,” Hermione said, shaking his arm. “Harry, listen to me…”

“What?!?” Harry asked her, still feeling wound up.

“Harry, I believe Mr. Seymour…” she told him. Harry and Ron both stared at Hermione as if she
was out of her mind.

“I believe what Mr. Seymour said is true,” Hermione gently repeated.

“Why?” Harry asked again.

Hermione, however, didn’t answer Harry directly and faced Seymour again. “Even if I believe your
story, sir, there’s just one more thing I need to ask you for proof,” she said to him. “If you’ll
take on the challenge, then there’s nothing else I need more for you to prove yourself.

“Of course, Ms. Granger,” Seymour said courteously. “Anything for Mr. Potter to be convinced I’m
really not a Death Eater like he strongly suspects…”

“I need to see both of your arms for the Dark Mark, sir,” Hermione requested. Harry and Ron
immediately snapped their sights on both Seymour’s sleeved forearms.

Smiling, Seymour rolled up his sleeves, revealing both his shiny and hairless forearms. Even
though Harry didn’t see any trace of the Dark Mark at all on his skin, he was still unwilling to
believe him.

“Now, do you believe me?” Seymour asked Harry, Ron, and Hermione again slowly, smiling down on
them.

Harry didn’t answer at once, but Hermione did. “Yes, thank you, Mr. Seymour,” Hermione assured
him.

“Hermione,” Harry said. “You don’t know what you’re saying…”

“Yes. On the contrary, I know,” Hermione replied, with finality on her voice. “If you trust me,
I ask you to believe him, too. I’ve worked with Mr. Seymour long enough to know what he’s like.
We’ve definitely got to help him with his work, or else I’m afraid we might not be able to fend off
all the attempts on you if we rely on ourselves.”

Harry scowled slightly, and then turned to Ron. Ron however, just shrugged and said unhelpfully
“Whatever you decide on, Harry, I’m right behind you.”

“I know what I’m talking about, Harry,” Hermione reiterated.

Harry disliked being waited upon to make any sort of instant decision. He was still not fully
convinced of Seymour’s story, but Hermione looked like she was real sure of herself. Her final test
against Seymour was a good stroke – if he indeed was a Death Eater, he would have chosen to attack
them at once rather than to calmly roll up his sleeves. What more would he want for Seymour to
ultimately prove he wasn’t, he thought.

He gazed back at Hermione again, who patiently awaited his reply. The next thing he thought
about was what if he refused to accept Hermione’s opinion on Seymour? He didn’t find it hard to
imagine at once. He knew Hermione would be badly hurt because it would look as if he didn’t fully
trust her, not after all the sacrifices she had made in order to protect him from all adversity –
not only for this year, but for the entire part of his life since she became his best friend. And
also remembering Dumbledore’s advice about how crucial it was for them to keep themselves united
against Voldemort, he knew he didn’t have a choice for now but to trust her judgment this time, and
hope she was right.

With much effort and lingering hesitation, Harry finally nodded. He had done it.

“Thank you, Mr. Potter,” Seymour said, with a sigh of relief. “Ms. Granger here is an excellent
prefect. She’s very – obedient – and she doesn’t complain much because she’s very enthusiastic with
her assignments. Have you done all your chores for today, Ms. Granger?”

“Yeah, I did,” she said, smiling. “Anything else you’d like to assign me, sir?”

“Ah, I think you had too much work for today,” Seymour chuckled. “Better leave everything for
tomorrow…”

“The chest’s empty, Judas,” Burton said, apparently waiting for a long time to say so.

“What?” he said. “Are you sure, Burton?”

“Why, what’s supposed to be in there?” Ron asked.

“Evidence we’ve worked hard to gather to incriminate some Death Eaters in Hogwarts,” he replied,
shaking his head with extreme disappointment. He punched the top of his desk, making him squeal in
pain.

“So who’re the Death Eaters you already know, Mr. Seymour?” Hermione said interestedly. “We’re
still clueless up to now…”

“Whipple, Monroe, Warren, Guest, and Russelpunk,” Burton replied for Seymour. “That’s just about
less than tenth of us here – there may be more, uh, I guess…”

“I knew it,” Ron said. “He broke in here not long ago, that Russelpunk. I’m sure he had taken
everything along with him…”

“Is that so?” Seymour said, looking surprised. “Russelpunk, huh? Are you sure about that?”

Hermione and Ron both nodded; Harry just stared around.

“He probably knows we’re on to him,” Seymour said matter-of-factly. “We’ve been observing him
for many days already – but we’ve not been suspecting him as the very man who always tried to break
in our office…”

“We saw him get in Whipple’s office first before he broke in here,” Hermione told Seymour.
“Whipple was in there, too, and we think they were talking and he sent the professor here,
too.”

“Ah, thank you, Ms. Granger,” Seymour acknowledged, and he broke into a mischievous smile. Harry
saw it.

“What are you grinning about, Mr. Seymour?” Harry asked suspiciously.

“Oh, my apologies, Mr. Potter,” he laughed. “It’s just about the first proof we have of
Russelpunk’s association with Whipple. We couldn’t find anything to link them together…”

“How does that link them together?” Burton asked.

Seymour shot him another look. “When we *have* time, dolt, I’ll explain it to you one by
one, get it?”

“Oh, yeah. Sorry, Boss…”

“Sorry about that, Mr. Potter,” Seymour said shamefacedly. “One other thing Burton needs is a
knock on the head, but he manages to get away with it every time. Now, I have to ask you to return
to your dormitory, or someone might get in here and you’ll be in deep trouble. Again I want to
thank you for believing me, though I can still feel you aren’t still fully convinced about me – I
can understand that. The Death Eaters have invaded the Ministry too much that we’re suffering too
much from being stereotyped…”

“We’re going out now, Mr. Seymour,” Hermione said she and curtly bowed her head at him. “See you
at our briefing tomorrow.” She then grabbed Harry’s arm painfully and pressed him out.

“Ow!” Harry exclaimed. “Hey, take it easy, will you?”

“You go out first – you two – and I’ll follow,” she told Harry and Ron.

“Why can’t we go together?”

“The two-man rule!” she reminded him impatiently. “Now go before I kick you out myself!”

“Hermione, what’s wrong with you?” Harry asked, annoyed with her statement. “You’ve suddenly
become too hot-headed lately it’s not like you…”

She did so like she had threatened, though not painfully. Harry looked back at her, scowling.
Ron, meanwhile held out his hands to keep Hermione away from himself as he inched back towards the
door.

“Miss Granger, that’s totally uncalled for,” Seymour said sternly at her as she followed Harry
and Ron out. “Remember the prefects’ creed, the ‘Vox-Domini*’*.

“Sorry, sir,” she apologized. “Got carried away…”

As soon as they were back out the corridor, Harry glared back at Hermione, who was slowly
walking along with him from behind. Ron looked very apprehensive as if he was afraid they were
getting to some kind of a fight that he didn’t know of during the time he distanced himself from
Harry and Hermione. He took out the cloak again and wrapped himself with it, glad that if Hermione
wanted to kick someone else she won’t be able to see him.

“Tell your problem, Hermione!” growled Harry.

Hermione didn’t seem to want to answer, because she looked stone faced as she kept walking,
looking at him. She must have been peeved with him about something, Harry thought. He was
completely clueless, and he wanted very much to know what it was.

“Answer me!” he demanded, but then Hermione suddenly looked extremely haggard. She was fighting
for her balance – she didn’t walk in a straight line and her eyes didn’t stay into one spot.

“Hermione,” Harry called, his growing anger quickly replaced with alarm and concern. “Hey,
what’s wrong?”

She fell down on the floor, succumbing into unconscious. Harry anxiously leaped back, went down
on his knees beside her, and lifted her up slightly to rest on his thigh like he did so every time
he caught her in a fainting spell.

“Harry, what’s happening to her?” Ron said, panic-stricken (he was still under the cloak).

“Another attack – you know, caused by the accident back at DADA last month?” Harry replied. “I
guess she felt it coming – she had a very bad temper before this…”

“You mean she still has it?” Ron exclaimed. “But that was a long time ago!”

“Yeah, I know! But she’s been denying all along that she still has – she’ll come to in a sec, I
expect…”

However, more than a minute had passed and Hermione was still out cold. “I don’t understand –
she’s supposed to wake up almost immediately,” he said, getting more worried.

Seymour had walked out of his door, and upon seeing Harry holding Hermione on the floor, he ran
over to them and exclaimed “What happened to Ms. Granger?”

“She fainted, sir,” Harry replied vaguely.

“Then I suggest you bring her to the hospital wing now,” Seymour said urgently. “Bring your
friend with you…”

“Who?” Harry said, looking up at Seymour. “Excuse me, sir, but no one’s here except you, me, and
Hermione…”

“No time to argue, Mr. Potter,” he grunted impatiently. “To me your friend looks hazy standing
beside you under that cloak. It’s best if you get moving now to have her treated. Now, go!”

Harry gulped. Seymour could see under the invisibility cloak after all, though it was absolutely
not the right time for him to worry about. The wizard was right - he had to bring her to the
hospital wing, or else she may be getting deeper into something worse. Harry lifted Hermione up
from the floor and dashed, ignoring the pain that was growing on his arms while heaving Hermione’s
full weight.

-o0o-

“Oh, no!” Hermione groaned when she woke up next at the hospital wing. “Don’t tell me…”

“Yes, I’ll you what happened.” Madam Pomfrey said to her firmly while she was finishing off a
barrage of diagnostic tests. “You had another attack, and worse, Harry here tells me you’ve been
keeping it a secret from me for days! I’ve already scolded him for it. How could ever do such a
thing, Hermione?”

Hermione tightened her lips. “I’m very sorry, Madam,” she replied shamefacedly. “Honestly, I
don’t know why…”

Madam Pomfrey clicked her tongue. “I consider you lucky it happened to you again tonight –
otherwise I’d never know you’re still suffering from it. More of this and you’ll most likely lose
your entire memory then…”

Hermione dropped her jaw.

“Yes! Your whole memory…from your own birth!” Madam Pomfrey restated. “You haven’t been taking
your medication like I told you! You better restart, and don’t expect it to take effect at once. It
takes quite a while for your body to reaccept the potion.”

Hermione gazed at Harry, who was watching over her from the other side of the bed.

Harry merely shrugged. “I’m not going to blame you any further…but I’m glad you’re still mind
and body’s still in one piece. You gave me and Ron quite a scare!”

“Sorry, Harry,” she said sheepishly. “I should have listened to you then…”

“I have to ask you to stay overnight, Hermione,” Madam Pomfrey told her, “in order to ensure you
take your medication properly – not that I’ve lost trust in you I don’t…”

Hermione nodded and sighed deeply. Another boring night was in store ahead of her.

“I guess we can’t see you until tomorrow, then,” Harry groaned, reaching for her hand and
squeezing it gently. He felt another tug in his heart when he saw her smile up at him
affectionately. It was this that he desired to give her his first kiss more than ever, but he could
not do it without fighting fiercely with himself.

Hermione may have understood what was going on inside Harry’s mind at the moment by the way she
looked in his eyes.

“Harry,” she said softly, “I wish you could stay here with me tonight, but I know you’re not
safe here – I’ll be all right with Madam Pomfrey. Whatever it is you’re thinking of doing right
now, it – it’s okay.”

Harry stared at her. He wasn’t at all sure what she meant, but the message to him was crystal
clear, or it sounded like it. Though he feared he had misinterpreted Hermione’s message, the next
thing he knew he was kissing her on her cheek (his hesitation made him go for that instead of her
lips). A strong crash startled Harry and drew him away from Hermione at once. Ron had tripped on
the medicine tray and he fell down on the floor.

“Ron – what happened to you?” Harry said, looking down at him.

“I-I don’t know,” he said, rubbing his eyes, “but I kind of went blind for a second…”

“Huh? Are you sure?” Harry asked him suspiciously. Perhaps Ron still was against him and
Hermione being more than just best friends, he thought.

“Yeah – I swear!” replied, standing up. “Weird!”

Harry, however, didn’t buy it readily.

“Okay, okay,” said Madam Pomfrey who was back from her office, “that’s enough talking! It’s very
late at night! Shoo!”

Harry and Ron said goodnight to a now miserable looking Hermione and walked back to the
Gryffindor tower together, under the cloak. They both didn’t go straight to bed when they reached
the Gryffindor tower and decided to sit down beside the fireplace in silence indefinitely.

“Harry,” called Ron sleepily beside him on the couch after an hour of no talking.

“Yeah?”

“Feel like talking?”

“Okay…”

“What do you feel about what happened tonight in Seymour’s office?”

Harry didn’t answer at once and recalled their most recent experience deeply after being
reminded about it. Because of what happened to Hermione after that, he somehow completely forgotten
to deliberate on Seymour.

“Honestly, I don’t know what to think, Ron,” Harry sighed and rubbing his face. “There’s too
much going on and everything’s gotten crazy lately I think I’m gonna puke!”

“I know how you feel,” Ron said, sinking deeper on his comfy chair. “I’ve missed the finer
points of what happened to you and Hermione before that incident at the Forbidden Forest – but I
know it’s my fault…I don’t blame you. But if you can fill me in again…”

“But we already told you everything, Ron,” Harry exhaled tiredly. “About the only thing that’s
significant is Russelpunk’s suspicious behavior. Our theories hadn’t changed at all. If we take
Seymour’s word, then what he said back in his office tonight confirms all our suspicions.
Russelpunk is the guy to watch out for…Whipple, too.”

“Okay…” Ron trailed off. “Then what do we do next?”

“Oh, I don’t know…staying safe as much as possible in Hogwarts seems the best thing to do at the
moment...” Harry said sincerely. “But the very thing they’re here for really happens, then we can’t
do anything else but to accept it…

“Harry, are you saying that you’re giving up doing something about the plot to take you away?”
Ron said incredulously.

“If it sounds like it, then maybe that’s true,” Harry sighed. “Look what might have happened
back in Seymour’s office tonight – if he turned out to be a bad guy, then maybe I’d be in Xanthius
right now and Hermione and you are probably both dead. It would be my fault/ I’ve been thinking
about it - if we keep on chasing everyone we suspect…”

“Then they’ll most likely succeed whatever they were here for,” Ron finished. “Sorry, but I
don’t agree with you at all, Harry. We’re almost on top of Russelpunk – and Seymour is hot on his
tail. If we let Russelpunk loose, he’ll get you soon enough.”

Harry fell silent. He’d never been this demoralized since his first year when he decided not to
care about the weird things that were happening in Hogwarts then – and it led him to confront
Voldemort for the first time anyway. Ron’s request to Harry ran contrary to Dumbledore’s appeal to
them not to expose their own selves unnecessarily to danger, but that thought strangely evaded them
all the time.

“Harry…” Ron called him again. “I think…”

“Yeah, I think I’m just too tired I don’t know what I’m talking about,” he yawned.

“Other than that, I think you’re getting too distressed about Hermione, too, it’s not healthy,”
Ron said. “I’m sure she wouldn’t want you to give up – she’d want you to press on…because I know
she loves you…”

Harry stared at Ron. “How would you know?”

Ron shrugged. “Can’t you see by the look on her eyes each time she looks at you? It’s
unmistakable!”

“Ron, if you’re saying that just to make up with me…”

“No, no…” Ron countered gently. “I’m not doing that. That’s not true at all. It’s just that I’ve
seen it so many times and I had begun to accept it, and I can’t deny that she really does feel
special about you. Didn’t you know she was looking at you very lovingly back there in the boy’s
lavatory?”

“I didn’t see her…just when did you suddenly become an expert on reading people’s faces,
Ron?”

“Not only that,” Ron continued, ignoring Harry’s question, “when we hated each other I kept
observing you going together alone – it’s the time I’ve seen her that she’s the most happiest. It’s
something that I can’t stop, and I’ve realized she’s better off with you than Krum. Better you than
him – but don’t get it the wrong way…We could still be a trio if you both went together, right? I
was so stupid I didn’t think of that before.”

“Oh, I don’t know about hooking up with her…” Harry sighed. “I kind of forgotten about it for a
while and I don’t know how she’ll take it – I mean, going steady with her, or making her my uh,
my…uhm…”

“Go on, say it…” Ron persuaded, bobbing his head slowly along with Harry.

Harry grinned awkwardly. “Ehem…my – girlfriend…”

“There you go!” Ron said cheerfully. “Now that wasn’t hard, was it?”

Harry shrugged and rolled his eyes. “Like I was saying…It’s a totally different thing – it’d be
weird after being best friends with her for years. I’ve always though about that ever since - it’s
scary…”

“Well, whatever feelings you have with her, don’t make me stop you - because I won’t,” Ron said
sincerely. “Not everybody – even they discourage you…”

Harry fell silent for a while, letting what Ron said to him to sink in.

“Okay - I’ll think about it, Ron, but thanks,” Harry smiled. He was already feeling
uncomfortable talking about this with Ron who until recently was loathe of even thinking about the
very thing that made him break up with him and Hermione. Attempting to change the subject, he said,
“Hey, did I already thank you for saving me back there at the Forbidden Forest?”

“Yeah,” Ron laughed. “About a couple hundred times…”

“Oh! Okay, I got to go to sleep,” Harry said, standing up and stretching. “See you in the
morning, Ron.”

“Sure,” Ron replied, and he watched him walk off to the spiral staircase.

“Harry?”

Harry stopped and faced Ron. “Yeah?”

“Please don’t think of giving up doing something to protect yourself – remember Hermione and I
are right behind you always to back you up, okay?”

Harry smiled at him. He knew what Ron was trying to say again, like he told him so many times
already. He and Hermione were ready to die for him if necessary to protect him, and they had proven
it again back at the Forbidden Forest today. It would be very, very unfair if the feeling was not
mutual.

-o0o-

*The Mudblood is dead! The Mudblood is dead!*

The same words played over and over in Harry’s dream all night amid a hail of mirthless
laughter, and he sprung awake the next morning. Harry was wet all over with cold sweat, and he
panted as he tried to regain his breathing. The strange dream had come back again, and he didn’t
understand why it had and why it bothered him so. After all, it turned out to be Russelpunk in the
end, and Harry didn’t care what happened to him now at all.

After realizing it was all a bad dream again, Harry slid off his bed and sat at the edge, taking
off his damp shirt. He then shivered. The window had opened wide by itself overnight, bringing in
chilly air from outside. He leaped above his bed to closed it in one bound, wrapped himself with
his comforter, and sat back down on his bed, yawning wide, to recollect his thoughts.

He tried to recall vaguely about his last dream – as much as he remembered, the dream he had was
about the same that he had back at the Burrow. He didn’t really know what it really meant since
dreams often showed the obvious but mostly turn out differently in the end, and why it had come
back to him again. But Harry knew a part of him wished Russelpunk would really be snuffed out soon,
like his dream had suggested, even if it was really awful to think about such thoughts. He hated
himself for it. But it was Russelpunk who caused the Snitch to run away to lure him into the hands
of the Death Eaters, right? He had seen it with his own two eyes. How dare he try to be friendly
with him and Hermione if all that he was after was to help deliver him as a present to Voldemort?
The very thing that was difficult still was that he just didn’t have anything with him to prove
Russelpunk was the one behind it.

It was past ten and Harry missed breakfast this Saturday morning. Ron did, too, because he was
still snoring at his bed. Yesterday’s events drained out all their energy. Thank goodness it was
Saturday!

Harry went down to the Common Room after preparing himself, and watched a few of his classmates
reading something intently on the bulletin board. He went over behind Ginny, who noticed him.

“Guess what’s happening this Tuesday, Harry,” she said, looking excited.

“Why? What’s happening this Tuesday?”

“Fudge declared a special day to visit to Hogsmeade!” she whooped. “That means no classes for a
whole day of shopping!”

“Huh? Why?” Harry asked. The next regular visit to Hogsmeade was supposed to be in April.
“What’s the reason?”

“I don’t know – and I don’t care,” Seamus answered cheerfully, emerging from the crowd of
students reading the notice. “But it’s great news…”

“What’s different this time is that everyone at Hogwarts – even teachers – is required to
attend,” Neville added. He looked happy, too. “Even ickle firsties – lucky little monsters…”

“I think I know the reason behind it,” Ginny interrupted. “I heard from Fred and George that
Fudge wanted to show it was safe for everyone to do anything out of the ordinary – to show
normalcy. Of course, a Hogsmeade visit isn’t normal this time of year especially with students
under third year coming along, but he’s inviting the Daily Prophet to cover the event.”

Harry thought Fudge was out of his mind and he’s thinking of doing everything just to prove that
the wizard world had nothing to be worried about Voldemort, thus the Daily Prophet reporting on the
occasion. But Harry admitted this was too good to pass up, a bright spot and a good break in
Fudge’s on-going “State of Emergency”. Who could say no to Hogsmeade at all? He wondered what
Dumbledore thought of Fudge’s decision, but Harry hoped he concurred with it, not that he was
really starting to approve of Fudge’s ideas already.

Hermione had come back from the hospital wing and she looked very healthy this morning. She was
sitting by the fireplace reading the book Mr. Weasley had given her when they got back from
vacation. Harry felt a leap in his heart seeing her all over again, especially looking very
okay.

Harry sat down beside her. “Hey, you’re back! How’re you feeling?”

“Rejuvenated,” she smiled, putting down her book on her lap.

“That’s great!”

“You?”

Harry shrugged. “Still worried about everything, unfortunately. Sorry, I didn’t mean to break
your good mood…”

“It’s perfectly okay, Harry,” Hermione said, smiling. “I can’t deny I keep worrying about what
will happen to you or to us today, tomorrow…something almost disastrous happened to us yesterday
and I don’t believe the Death Eaters have given up yet. It was a foiled attempt on you yesterday,
so they will try again I’m sure. The question is when…”

“Yeah, you’re right,” Harry exhaled. “Not only that, I’m also…you know…very worried about… you.
I hope you’re getting better from now on.”

Hermione broke into another smile and gazed at him appreciatively. “Thanks, Harry,” she said,
“Madam Pomfrey really thinks if I just keep taking my medication I’ll not have any more problems in
a month. But, you know, I feel kind of guilty about it really. Here you are in danger of being
taken away by murderous Death Eaters and I keep on landing on the floor…I know I shouldn’t be a
burden to you in the first place.”

“But you’re my best friend, Hermione,” Harry argued friendly. “I don’t really mind about that at
all. It’s not your fault we’re having real problems at the same time, right? I have to help you
whether you like it or not.” He grinned.

“Yeah…but…but…” Hermione tried to counter, but then she giggled.

“What?” Harry asked, laughing along with her.

Hermione suppressed her laughter. Failing, she said, chuckling “Arrrghh, trying to argue with
you against it is useless. What now am I going to do with you, Harry James?”

Harry glanced up the ceiling to think of something, and he said “Why not go with me on a
date?”

Hermione stared at Harry. She didn’t believe what she had just heard. “Pardon?” she said, hoping
that she’d hear Harry say the very words she thought he just said.

“I’d like to ask you for a date,” Harry repeated gently.

Hermione’s jaw hung slightly with a noticeable hint of a smile and she became breathless. “Are
you serious?” she said, still doubtful.

Harry nodded his head and gave her a quick smirk.

“Well, I’ll think about it,” she teased slowly. When Harry fell for it by bowing his head in
disappointment, she quickly said, “Done! Yes, Harry, I’ll happily go with you.”

Harry looked back at her and he didn’t know what to say – he was visibly overjoyed with
Hermione’s reply.

“Uh, where, then, are we going?” Hermione asked, realizing they were virtually trapped in
Hogwarts.

Harry sprang off from the couch, ran towards the billboard, and detached the poster that
announced the unscheduled Hogsmeade visit on Tuesday. He ignored the deafening gripes of his
classmates and flashed it in front of Hermione. She looked at it uncertainly.

“But Harry, do you think it’s safe?”

“Much safer than being stuck here with no one but – well, you perfectly know who I’m talking
about,” Harry explained, grinning. “Everybody from Hogwarts will be in Hogsmeade that day – that
includes every one of the teachers. I’m positive we’ll be much safer with lots of people
around…”

“I suppose…” Hermione said tentatively.

“Oh, c’mon, please?” Harry pleaded.

After remembering what she read before in “Hogwarts: A History” that Hogsmeade was also a safe
haven like Hogwarts, she agreed. “Sure,” she told Harry, smiling.

Ron suddenly sat beside between him and Hermione, putting his arms around them, and said, “Then
it’s settled! Hope you have fun alone then, you two!” He then whooped in delight and went straight
towards the portrait hole.

“Ronald!” Hermione shrieked after him, pinching her nose amusingly. “Don’t you ever gargle in
the morning?”

-o0o-

Harry, along with Hermione, now had something to look forward to and they were both so excited
with their upcoming date next Tuesday that they learned how not to worry too much about the plot
against Harry, though they were still as vigilant as they were before. Hermione and Ron had mapped
out their own schedule, in their own words, to “go on guard duty” for Harry. Harry was the most
happiest when it was Hermione’s turn to go with him, but he was nevertheless grateful with Ron’s
efforts to look after him, too.

The trio had some sort of an unexpected break from watching out for Russelpunk during for a
couple of days when the professor took a weekend off out of Hogwarts. Hermione’s theory was that
Russelpunk needed time out to get more instructions from Voldemort, which Harry and Ron readily
agreed with. Because of that they worried about the real possibility that there might be another
attempt on Harry sooner or later, but as long as he wouldn’t be lured out of bounds of Hogwarts
like what happened the last Friday, the Death Eaters probably couldn’t touch him. The Forbidden
Forest, Hermione pointed out in theory, didn’t have any sort of protection unlike Hogwarts and
Hogsmeade. Perhaps this was why Dumbledore seemed to be very relaxed and didn’t worry too much
about Harry at all – he may have known something about the magic in Hogwarts that nobody else
did.

Harry, Ron, and Hermione couldn’t find Dumbledore anywhere for the whole weekend to tell him
about what they learned in Seymour’s office Friday night. Professor Flitwick told them that the
Headmaster was very busy securing McGonagall’s release from detention in London, which he had no
real hope of achieving because of Fudge’s insistence of enforcing the rules of the State of
Emergency and making McGonagall a good “example”.

Harry learned from Arthur Weasley’s letter to Ginny (she shared to him what her dad wrote to
her) that Fudge’s State of Emergency was very unpopular for many wizards in the wizarding world,
much to their delight. Fudge had originally hoped that by declaring it, the Ministry of Magic could
easily stifle any form of information going around (both fact and fiction) about Voldemort’s return
by threats of indefinite prison terms and other extra-legal forms of penalties. Since the Ministry
was already spread too thin by struggling to cover up the many Death Eater and Hybrid attacks that
occurred after the holidays to start with, they could not enforce their own laws and make good on
their threats of punishment for anyone caught violating it. Such stories still went around freely
among the populace that Fudge had now been branded as a congenital liar, among the derisive names
he had already earned from angry wizards. Arthur had noted in his letter that instead of convincing
the wizard world that Voldemort wasn’t back, he inadvertently made most believe that he truly was
because of his repeated denials contrary to the rumors.

The other hot issue in the wizard world then was about Fudge’s draconian measures in Hogwarts.
The exact state inside the school was not clear to all from the outside who wanted to know what was
really going on at the inside (every letter out of Hogwarts were censored, and any information
about the rules imposed by Whipple was blacked out). Parents relentlessly demanded Fudge to explain
his lopsided decision to restrict some basic freedoms among the students (among them the legality
of arbitrary expulsion for anyone caught in a group of more than two persons). Apparently the
expulsion of the three Ravenclaw students without due process had brought the issue to the
forefront. Arthur wrote that the expelled students and their parents had fought back by appearing
frequently in numerous interview shows in the Wizard Wireless Network. Fudge had tried to shut the
station down more than a few times but a huge constantly-vigilant crowd has camped outside the
premises to block any attempts to do so, frustrating him. Anybody from the ministry sent in by
Fudge who tried to punch through the crowd was transfigured into a ferret by irate wizards.

“Fudge probably is at a loss what to do now,” Hermione grinned mischievously over breakfast on
Sunday, “and that’s a good thing! I think the Hogsmeade day this Tuesday is a knee jerk reaction
for Fudge to quiet down the parents – that’s probably the reason why the Daily Prophet is coming
along to write a story about it.”

Harry, Ron, and Hermione hoped that Fudge was already having sleepless nights – he had brought
it upon himself.

Monday had arrived and classes had resumed again. The surprise for the day was the lifting of
the two-man rule, much to everybody’s pleasant surprise. Harry surmised Fudge had broken out of
pressure. Additionally, Harry hoped he’d be forced to withdraw all the ministry wizards from
Hogwarts very soon, though he thought this was a very remote possibility if he still allegedly took
“orders” from Lucius.

Harry, Ron, and Hermione had double Defence Against the Dark Arts class after lunch that Monday,
and if they had their way, they would have skived it off because they couldn’t stand to look at
Russelpunk’s traitorous face anymore – even Hermione who was indisposed to miss any class, but it
was Dumbledore who had asked them not to do so. Out of great respect for him, they did – only that
they chose to sit at the rearmost part of the DADA classroom with their books blocking the view of
the blackboard.

The Gryffindors and the Hufflepuffs had been waiting for the class to begin for over an hour
now, but the Professor had yet to show himself up.

“Where do you think Russelpunk is?” asked Neville to no one in particular.

“Maybe he’s sick,” replied Dean Thomas hopefully.

Seamus, bored with waiting, declared “He probably isn’t back from his weekend leave – no point
of waiting for him now. Let’s go…” he collected his bag and stood up. Following his lead, the rest
of the class decided it was best to spend the rest of their time before the next class outdoors.
Harry, Ron, and Hermione, however, didn’t.

“What’s going on in your mind, Harry?” Ron asked when everybody else had already gotten out of
the room (Harry had told him earlier to stay put). “Why’d you stop me from going out?”

“If Russelpunk really isn’t back yet,” Harry replied in an undertone, “then maybe we could sneak
in to his office and see if we could find something in there – maybe we could find out what he took
out of Seymour’s chest…” Harry pointed to Russelpunk’s office door, which stood adjacent to the
classroom beside the teacher’s table.

“If it’s still there,” Ron added. “He might have brought it out along with him during his
weekend off.”

Harry grinned at him. “We won’t be able to know at all if we don’t, will we?”

Hermione stared at Harry anxiously. “Oh, I don’t know…have we ever learned our lesson back in
Seymour’s? We might get into big trouble again! Worse, Russelpunk might kill us!”

“C’mon, let’s go!” Ron said, unfazed by what Hermione said. He stood up and stepped down the
aisle.

“Ron!” Hermione moaned, but Harry pulled her off her chair and towards Russelpunk’s office.
Soon, they quietly entered it after no one had answered after knocking on the door.

The office looked different as Harry had remembered it when the fake Mad-eye Moody (a.k.a. Barty
Crouch, Jr.) had occupied it last year. Gone where the various anti-dark wizard gizmos. They were
replaced by weird looking objects that at first glance anyone could suspect they belonged to
wizards interested in and practicing the dark arts. Harry could not help but sense Russelpunk was a
truly a dark wizard, an impression shared by Hermione and Ron, and was not just merely interested
in the Dark Arts as a science like Moody had said before.

There were dozens of skulls abound, both life-sized and miniature in different forms of art and
design (even real ones with paintings or engravings of serpents on them) lining the bookshelves,
voodoo dolls, gadgets of hags, dark candles, Oarling teeth, collections of dirty nail clippings, a
mock up of the Hand of Glory, and the worse of all, a three-dimensional model of the Dark Mark
labeled “Property of Winston Mills, third hand of the Dark Lord, 1975”. Rows of books about the
Dark Arts filled the rest of the free space not occupied by other trinkets and figurines.

Ron whistled. “This Russelpunk bloke is…I - I can’t think of anything to describe him.”

“C’mon…Look for something out of the ordinary,” said Harry, going behind Russelpunk’s desk. Ron,
however, seemed keen on examining the different bizarre paraphernalia while Hermione was naturally
interested with the books, forgetting slightly about her resistance to enter the office.

After spending more than a few minutes of rummaging carefully in Russelpunk’s drawers, Harry
found that Ron was just playing with a dark wizard toy and Hermione buried her nose on book
entitled, “The Rise and *Rise* of the Dark Arts”.

“Hey!” Harry hissed to Ron and Hermione, “why aren’t you looking for any clues?” Ron dropped the
toy immediately and Hermione quickly returned the book at the shelf. They started to look around in
earnest. Harry shook his head and started to walk back to an interesting looking closet just to the
side of Russelpunk’s desk. The closet look strangely familiar – he couldn’t recall where he had
seen it before. Thinking he’d just be wasting time thinking about it, he move closer and then he
slipped, crashing down on the floor.

“Harry!” Hermione exclaimed and ran to where he disappeared behind the desk. Upon seeing Harry
again, she dropped her jaw. “Harry! Oh, my god, you’re hurt!” she gasped.

Harry was on the floor trying to get up, blood smeared all over his robes and hands. He gasped
and went pale when he discovered it.

“Y-You’re bleeding!” Ron wheezed.

“No,” Harry said, after checking himself for wounds, “no, I think it’s not mine – I don’t feel
anything painful…”

“Then if it’s not yours,” said Hermione tentatively, “then whose is it?”

Harry looked down on the floor again and tried to trace where the pool of blood was coming from.
It went towards his back and trailed towards the closet behind him. More blood was dripping from
inside it.

“Oh, no!” Hermione breathed. “Can it possibly be…”

Harry stood up and faced the closet forebodingly, wiping his blood smeared hands on his robes.
He inched closer towards it, reaching for the knob. Still fearing to see what was inside it, he
turned it and opened the doors wide.

Hermione screamed.

Russelpunk was stuffed inside the closet with a knife through his heart. He was dead. Harry felt
as if he was watching a replay of his dreams, and he could now hear the same words inside his
head:

“*The Mudblood is dead! The Mudblood is dead!”*

“L-Let’s get out of here!” Harry suggested fearfully. When they turned for the door, Horace
Whipple, with an unknown wizard, was at the doorway and was staring at them, making Hermione scream
again. Harry froze and he didn’t know what to do at the moment being caught with blood on his hands
with a dead body in the closet.

“What’re you doing here?” Whipple asked. He then noticed the blood on Harry’s hands and robes.
“How come you have blood all over you…I…”

The wide open closet caught his attention next. Russelpunk’s lifeless face could be seen from
where he stood, and he narrowed his eyes towards Harry. “O’Grady, look for Seymour and Minister
Fudge, quick!” he ordered his companion. “We may have caught a murderer on the act.”

O’Grady didn’t wait a second more to go looking for them. Whipple raised and pointed his wand at
Harry’s direction. “Put your wands slowly on the floor and roll them towards me, you three. Any
sudden moves and I will curse you…”

Harry, Ron, and Hermione quietly did what they were told to do. “Sir, I didn’t…” Harry
started.

“Silence!” he barked. Without removing his glare towards Harry, Ron, and Hermione, he scooped up
their wands and placed them in his pockets. “You three better look for good lawyers. If proven,
murder is punishable by death.”

Hermione sobbed, and Ron looked extremely terrified.

“Sir…I didn’t do it…I,” Harry pleaded, but Whipple cut him off again.

“I said *silence*! I have no power to judge you, though you will have the opportunity to
defend yourselves in front of the Winzegamot. But from the looks of scene in front of me, you don’t
seem to have any hope to…”

Fudge and Seymour had entered the office. “Whipple – you wanted to see me…” he said, but dropped
his jaw when he saw what he was seeing inside. He looked dog tired, but he was shocked by the
terrible sight in front of him – a dead body and three scared students with blood all over one of
them. “Tell me what’s happening, Whipple,” he added slowly.

“Minister,” Whipple replied without lowering his wand, “we’re looking at the crime scene of a
murder, and I caught these students inside as the culprits…”

“But we didn’t do it, Minister!” Harry implored.

“*Quiet*!” Whipple yelled.

Seymour went over to the closet, careful not to step on any evidence, and checked on Russelpunk.
After feeling for his pulse from the professor’s neck, he looked back at Fudge and shook his head.
“He’s lifeless.”

Fudge then stared at Harry, Ron, and Hermione and said “Okay, let’s hear what you have to say
now.”

“Minister, we went inside the office and I tripped and fell on a on a pool of blood. Then we
found Professor Russlepunk inside the closet and he was dead. Th-that’s it…”

“Good story, Potter,” Whipple snorted. “But unfortunately for you I don’t buy it. You stabbed
the victim to death and stuffed him in the closet! That’s why you have blood all over your hands
and your robes – and your friends here are your accomplices!”

“But sir,” Hermione cried, “he’s telling the truth, I swear!”

“Then what were you three doing inside the office then, Granger?” Fudge tested.

Hermione didn’t know how to answer that, and gazed at Harry for one.

“See, there,” Whipple laughed. “She couldn’t even answer a simple question. That, in itself, is
highly suspicious.”

Fudge nodded. “I want them put under arrest, men,” he said seriously. “We’ll bring them to
London to be interrogated and charged with murder.”

“Why, Fudge?” Dumbledore asked from behind, startling him slightly.

“Oh, it’s you,” Fudge said cheekily. “Administrator Whipple caught your students here with a
body red handed. It seems they have committed the heinous crime of murder on a professor of
Hogwarts, possibly out of hatred towards him. Therefore, they shall be brought to London for
investigation, and like I said, booked for murder.”

“I see,” Dumbledore said calmly. “Then how could you suspect Harry Potter and his friends are
really the perpetrators of this crime?”

Fudge stared at Dumbledore incredulously. “Can’t you for yourself, old man?” he shouted,
pointing at the scene. “They’ve been found with blood on their hands! Even a five-year old could
see something wrong with this!”

“Apparently so. So, have you already conducted a crime scene investigation, may I ask?”

“Of course we already had!” Fudge screamed. “We couldn’t just accuse anybody without doing that
– it’s standard procedure! It’s…it’s…” Fudge paused. He then looked around slowly for Whipple and
said, “Have you?”

Whipple gulped, and sheepishly shook his head at him. Fudge roared in anger.

“Then, Cornelius,” Dumbledore said, smirking, “we can’t just arrest Mr. Potter and his friends
just because you found them in a room with a dead person in a closet. Until a crime scene
investigation is thoroughly conducted, concluded, and an official forensic report is filed, nobody
can be charged with murder. Like you said, it’s standard procedure. There might be some other
explanation for the reason of Harry’s presence in this room when the body was found.” Dumbledore
turned to Harry and asked gently “Can you tell me your story, please, Harry?”

“Yes, sir,” Harry said, “I already told them we found Professor Russelpunk dead inside the
closet after I slipped on the floor on a pool of blood…”

“Thank, you, Harry,” Dumbledore said. “Harry’s story may be true or not and the only way to find
out is to look for evidence inside the crime scene. The wizard criminal code says every person is
innocent until proven guilty. Harry and his friends can be questioned inside the crime scene, but
they cannot be arrested until there is and a warrant of issued against them when the Winzegamot
deems there is probable cause based on the crime scene report.”

“But they’ve been caught at the scene of the crime!” Fudge argued hotly. “Whipple was the first
to see them here!”

“Yes, but did Horace Whipple witness any of my students on the act of killing Professor
Russelpunk?” Dumbledore countered.

Fudge growled in fury.

“Headmaster Dumbledore’s right, Minister,” Seymour concurred, with a noticeable look of concern
and anxiety on his face. “It’s the law, and we must follow it.”

Fudge shot a stare at Seymour. He was miffed at being lectured by a lowly Ministry Wizard
because it made him look ignorant. He then looked at Whipple again for his answer. He only got
another embarrassed nod from him, making him curse loudly. “Okay, okay, start recording the scene,
search for evidence, and get it over with!” he said impatiently with a wave of his hand. He then
pointed at Harry, Ron, and Hermione. “No one gets out of this room especially you three. Who’s a
qualified W.C.S.I. around here?”

Seymour raised his hand immediately. He was an official Wizard Crime Scene Investigator along
with Peter Burton. When Fudge begrudgingly jerked his thumb towards the closet, they immediately
went to work. Burton opened a large suitcase full of forensic tools and began searching for clues
that they hoped would point to the murderer. Seymour, meanwhile, went over to Harry, Ron, and
Hermione and rounded them up for an interview.

“Mr. Seymour,” Hermione said at once, still with tears in her eyes, “we didn’t do it, I
swear!”

Seymour nodded at her compassionately and said, “First you three need to cooperate with me and
answer a few questions and file a statement. Then you will be fingerprinted and your wands
temporarily confiscated for some tests.”

Harry, Ron, and Hermione groaned, but they had no choice but to comply. They told Seymour all
that they knew. They even told him truthfully about their purpose why they had entered Russelpunk’s
office without permission, and that is because they suspected him as a Death Eater and a part of
the alleged plot to kidnap Harry for Voldemort. Seymour didn’t seem to be surprised by that, and
religiously jotted down all the information on a parchment.

After the interview, Seymour took Harry, Ron, and Hermione’s fingerprints and rejoined Burton
who Harry saw taking out a white robe stained with blood and something silver from a drawer.
Seymour put it in a shimmering pouch sealed it without inspecting the objects. Harry thought he had
seen those things before but could not remember at once because of the tension he was feeling at
the moment.

Lastly, Burton tapped his wand on the knife’s handle, extracted it from the body of Russelpunk
with a gloved hand, and dropped it in another shimmering pouch. Seymour declared the investigation
over and covered Russelpunk’s body in a bag to be removed later.

“What are you findings?” Fudge said lazily.

“As of the moment, all the evidence gathered does not point to any person,” Seymour replied. “We
will send all the evidence to London for further testing, and the Wizard Crime Lab will submit its
recommendation to the Winzegamot.”

“Unacceptable!” Fudge bellowed. “Potter and his friends must not go free yet otherwise they will
go into hiding! Arrest them!”

“Cornelius,” Dumbledore said, standing up from his chair and glared at him, his eyes brimming
with fire and his wand on his hand.

“Are you going to stop me, Albus?” Fudge challenged him, but he visibly shook as he looked up at
him. Whipple and O’Grady faced towards the direction of Dumbledore, ready to protect the Minister
of Magic.

“I will if I have to, as I see grave injustice given against my students!”

“What more evidence do we need to see, old man?” Fudge roared. “I am responsible for protecting
the interest of the wizard public! If the people know I let go of the suspects when I already have
them in custody, they will have my head!”

“Better your head than my innocent students’, Cornelius!” Dumbledore retorted.

Fudge looked stunned after hearing what Dumbledore had said. “How dare you!!! What’s your proof
that your students are innocent already, Albus?!?”

“There’s one more thing left to do, Cornelius. Seymour, will you please take out the knife and
place it on the table?” Dumbledore asked him gently.

Seymour was taken aback. He didn’t know why Dumbledore had made a strange request, but he
granted it. As long as he had gloves on, he could still extract the knife safely from the pouch
without contaminating it.

“What’s the meaning of this, Albus?” Fudge demanded, darting his eyes between him and the knife,
which was now resting on the desk.

“I haven’t seen Seymour check the knife for prints…” he replied. “It’s a very serious
oversight.”

Seymour gasped. He had neglected to do a basic procedure of forensics, and his face showed he
was extremely anxious about it. As if he was reluctantly admitting to committing a glaring mistake
by obliging to check the knife for fingerprints like Dumbledore had pointed out, he tapped his wand
on it to extract some. But there wasn’t any. “It’s clean,” he said.

“You’re wasting my time, Albus!” Fudge said angrily. “Your students will be arrested and brought
to London, period! I am the Minister of Magic, and I will do everything in my power to solve this
case!”

Dumbledore didn’t answer him at once and gazed slowly towards a frightened looking Harry, Ron,
and Hermione. He watched at them for a little more while, and Harry sensed deep sadness in
Dumbledore by the look of his eyes. Harry didn’t know what Dumbledore was thinking about at the
moment, nor did Ron and Hermione.

“Please take one more look at the knife, Seymour,” Dumbledore said again, sounding strangely
resigned.

Fudge scowled and gritted his teeth with growing rage. “I don’t know what good it will do,
Albus! He didn’t find anything the first time - how could he find another then?”

But Seymour gasped again this time after discovering something new. He had extracted a well
defined form of a thumbprint were none had come from before, and recorded it in a parchment. He
didn’t understand it himself, and sweat ran down on his face.

Dumbledore walked over to the parchment and pressed his thumb on it, leaving a mark for Seymour
to inspect. The wizard then compared the thumbprints from the knife and Dumbledore’s sample. “It’s
a positive match,” Seymour breathed. “It looks like the Headmaster had handled the knife…and
possibly killed the victim.”

Dumbledore gazed at Fudge’s incredulous face. Even the Minister couldn’t believe what he was
seeing and hearing. It looked like Albus Dumbledore, the Headmaster of Hogwarts, had murdered a
member of his own faculty.

“What???” Hermione cried. She refused to believe her beloved Headmaster could do such a thing.
“There must be a mistake!!!”

Dumbledore kept silent. He then rolled and locked his eyes to Harry’s. Harry knew it was a
warning.

“What are you standing there for!!!” Fudge screamed at Whipple. “Arrest him!”

“Ron, Hermione, DUCK!” Harry yelled, and they dropped to the floor behind the desk, hearing the
different jets of spells that thundered all over the room. Hermione screamed as the whole office
shook and dust and debris from the ceiling fell down on them. Seymour had dived behind the desk,
too, and he covered the three kids as much as he could with his body. They didn’t know what was
happening at Dumbledore and Fudge’s side of the room, and who was hurting or winning. The crack of
curses died down as soon as it started, and after hearing a lull, Harry risked injury to take a
look around.

Thick dust had covered Harry’s vision, and when it had began to clear up, he saw Cornelius Fudge
standing alone in the middle of the floor unscathed, but shaking from head to foot. Whipple and
O’Grady’s lay down on the floor looking dead, but their chests rose and fell while they breathed
unconsciously. Both their white hair was scorched black and their suits burned to a pulp. Harry
searched for Dumbledore around, but he had already disappeared, apparently escaping and refusing to
be captured.

Harry wasn’t sure if the Headmaster really did kill Russelpunk, or if he just owned up to the
murder to spare him, Ron, and Hermione. Either way, Harry knew this was very bad. Dumbledore, the
only one Harry relied on for wisdom and protection, the only one he could fully trust, was gone
from Hogwarts.

-o0o-

Chapter 16 coming soon.

*Author’s note: I’ve underestimated the potential length of this chapter**, therefore the
“surprise” I mentioned last chapter will be written after this one. Sorry about that. But I hope it
will be a surprise, though I think that most this story’s intelligent readers have already figured
it out! (hehehehe). Chapter 16 will signal the start of the escalation towards the climax and
ending.*

*Please do leave a review after reading. I just want to know how I’m doing. Thanks! There*
*are still lots of action and important events up ahead to write for this story. As always, you
may check the top of this chapter sometime to know when to expect another update. Thanks for
reading!*



17. Date at Hogsmeade
---------------------



**New Update (November 21,2004): I'll do my best effort to post an update by Wednesday.
Aside from the current demands of my job, the next chapter is proving to be difficult to write
because I'm still undecided what better path to follow for the story out of the old outline.
The chapter has only passed the 4000-word mark as of today, though I'm still not happy with how
the chapter is written yet (I think it's pretty sloppy for now). So please bear with me.
Thanks!**

Update: The event in the alleyways has been slightly expanded (I felt it was lacking). I'm
definitely going to get busy, but don't worry, I'm still writing the next chapter even for
just a few paragraphs at a time. Thanks for the reviews!

*Author's Note: Thanks to - for their reviews! As always, every review is highly
appreciated. I'm posting this chapter this early before something comes up again with my job -
I'm going to get extra busy again this week so the next update after this might take a little
longer. I'll let you know.*

*Just a note: I just noticed the last chapter was like the Order of the Pheonix when
Dumbledore fought off Fudge in his office. No wonder it was easy to write (hee hee). Oh, well, too
late to change it.*

*On with the show now!*

**Chapter 16**

**Date at Hogsmeade**

Harry, Ron, and Hermione couldn't believe it. It felt so unreal for them Dumbledore had
suddenly left - and worse he was now marked as a fugitive from law. They didn't know what would
happen to Hogwarts now that he was gone. He was the only force around them that Voldemort or the
Death Eaters had to reckon with, and it would then be natural for them to believe that they could
now do everything they wanted to do in Hogwarts now that Dumbledore wasn't around to stop them.
This was the latest of the string of troubles plaguing Harry and his friends, which started from
Hermione's magical accident in class more than a month ago.

For Hermione who kept glancing edgily at Harry, it was him who'd be the most vulnerable
without Dumbledore's protection. She didn't know if she and Ron could be powerful enough to
stop any attempt to snatch Harry out of Hogwarts anymore.

The DADA teacher's office now looked very messy. Debris had about covered the floor. Seymour
helped Harry, Ron, and Hermione to stand up and asked them to stay while he checked on Whipple and
O'Grady. Dumbledore had merely stunned them in swift execution. Knowing that the Headmaster had
disproved Harry, Ron, and Hermione's culpability to the murder of Russelpunk, he gave their
wands back to them.

“S-Seymour,” Fudge said, still shaking, “secure the evidence and send out word on the Ministry
of Magic for an all-points bulletin for Albus Dumbledore. I want him arrested as soon as he's
spotted, understood? Expedite your report to the Winzegamot - we will immediately issue a warrant
for his arrest.”

“Yes, Minister.”

“And have someone clean them up and bring them new clothes,” Fudge ordered Seymour, pointing at
the still out-cold Whipple and O'Grady.”

“Pardon me, sir,” Seymour said tentatively, “But I believe Mr. Potter and his friends would like
to be dismissed now, sir?”

Fudge gazed at Harry, Ron, and Hermione who still looked shaken, too. After a moment of thought,
he then reluctantly told them, “Fine, you're dismissed…”

They quickly walked out, feeling no real enthusiasm of staying any longer in the presence of
Cornelius Fudge. They didn't feel like talking to each other as they crossed the Defence
Against the Dark Arts classroom, though they knew without saying that they will need to discuss
their concerns later in a private place.

Harry, Ron, and Hermione emerged out of the classroom, still covered from head to toe with dust.
Every student passing them by stopped to stare at them, wondering what happened. Some had asked
questions - others were laughing at the way they looked - but they didn't care and they knew
very well not to mind them. Harry was the most peculiar of the three because he was smeared with
blood, and upon seeing him the students began whispering to their classmates.

Harry, Ron, and Hermione walked on, going to the general direction of the Gryffindor Tower to do
the very first thing they thought of doing - to clean up. They got the same reaction like they had
outdoors from their Gryffindor classmates in the common room when they saw them. The three friends
went up the spiral staircase without answering any questions, but Hermione broke their silence when
they were near the door towards the dormitories.

“Let's meet at the edge of the lake in an hour, okay?” she whispered.

Harry and Ron immediately nodded, and continued their way pensively towards the boys' room.
Hermione could only watch them quietly enter their dormitory and then begin to get extremely get
worried about Harry's wellbeing.

-o0o-

Despite being the person who suggested that they meet by the lake in an hour, Hermione was late.
Ron conjured his own skates to try to entertain himself on the frozen lake, while Harry settled
with sitting down under a tree to think deeply.

“She tells us to meet here in an hour - and it's almost two,” grumbled Ron. “If she
doesn't come in ten minutes, we're out of here.”

Harry nodded his head absently, and scanned the grounds for any sign of Hermione. Soon, he
spotted her walking over towards them from afar. “At last, she's here,” he said, sighing.

As soon as she reached Harry and Ron, she said, “Wow, I thought I'd come here much earlier
than you but you got here first - that's good.”

Ron looked at Harry in bewilderment. “You're late for almost an hour, Hermione! How can you
tell us you'd expect to be here ahead of us?”

“What?”

“That's right,” Harry said. “Ron was getting tired of skating already…”

“Oh,” Hermione said, rolling her eyes slowly to the side. “Uh, I guess I…took too long in the
hot shower I lost track of time…”

But Harry looked skeptical. “Is it still happening yet? You probably had another of those memory
lapses…”

Hermione closed here eyes in disgust. She walked closer to Harry, as if her feet weighed a ton,
and sat down beside him on the snow, groaning. “But I've been taking my medicine! I was hoping
it wouldn't happen again, but I think it did. Strange, I didn't faint, though. I
should've known I suffered another attack then.”

“Hey, you didn't feel anything at all?” Harry said patiently. “That's - different. I
don't know what that means, but she did say the potions won't have an instant effect when
you start taking them again, right? So, no need to worry for now, I guess.”

“Does that mean I'm getting better now?”

“I hope. Looks like it.” Harry smiled at her. As long as Hermione didn't deny she still had
a problem, she'd surely take her medicine religiously.

“You know, I met Seymour again on the way here,” she told Harry and Ron.

“Oh, what did he say to you?” asked Ron, moving closer to Harry and Hermione to listen.

“He looked genuinely sad and demoralized. He asked me how I felt and he wanted it very much to
know how you two felt, too, after what happened.”

“Tell him if you meet him the feeling is mutual,” Harry groaned. “What else?”

“That was just about it, except that he wishes to see us before bed tonight to tell us something
important,” Hermione replied, thinking more about her meeting with Seymour. “He was just then
muttering about to himself and apologized for doing so in front of me, said goodbye and then got
back talking again to himself when he took off.”

“Poor Seymour,” Ron said. “I think he's okay, isn't he? To tell you the truth, he's
growing up on me,” he added, shrugging.

“Maybe,” Harry concurred. “I guess you're right. Come to think of it, he tried to buy us
time by telling Fudge we shouldn't be arrested first until an investigation is over. I
couldn't forget the look on Seymour when he lifted up the fingerprint from that knife, and then
after he said it matched Dumbledore's.”

“I saw that, too,” Hermione said. “Then I guess he's really on our side, huh?”

“Probably,” Harry nodded after looking at Ron for his opinion (he was nodding, too, but still
with a hint of reservation). “Let's just try to see how he can help us even more.”

“We need all the help that we could get - even from Seymour,” Ron said gloomily. “We're
gonna be swamped by Death Eaters next then, I suspect. Without Dumbledore, Hogwarts is fair
game.”

“I really can't believe Dumbledore could do such a thing as to kill a Hogwarts teacher,”
Hermione said shaking her head. “It's just so incredible! There's got to be some kind of
explanation for all this.”

“Someone else did it - I'm willing to bet everything I have!” Ron said hotly. “Well, I
really don't have anything good to bet…”

“That's what I'm thinking, too, all along,” Harry said. “I refuse believe he could kill
anyone in cold blood. Let's think of something - some kind of theory. Maybe we could help clear
Dumbledore's name if we can.”

“Yeah,” agreed Hermione. “We better use of our free time to help Dumbledore. We could begin
now…”

“All right…who could it be, then?” Ron asked. “It could be anyone at Hogwarts - well, except of
course, *us*.”

“Whipple,” Hermione proposed at once. “It's got to be Whipple. You know it's him.”

“Okay, let's say it's Whipple,” Harry said, looking at both Hermione and Ron. “Why would
he kill Russelpunk? What would be his most likely motive?” He didn't get an instant answer
because he allowed everyone to think to about.

Ron spoke first. “How about this - Russelpunk owed him lots of money, and he couldn't pay
Whipple a Knut, so he killed him…”

Hermione scowled and shook her head, making Ron stop and think of another more likely
scenario.

Harry was the next to chip in his own theory. “Let's try Whipple was going to steal
something in the office and Russelpunk caught him, leading to a powerful struggle and Whipple won
him over - stabbed him on the heart and stuffed him in the closet!”

Hermione felt that still wasn't it. “The office looked very tidy when we got in, Harry…and
besides, we didn't see the dots on the map when he got in Whipple's office to suggest any
fight was going on inside. Russelpunk came in and out without incident. It goes against our theory
he's taking instructions from Whipple.”

“Whipple cleaned the office up!” Ron added brightly.

“After a fight when you'd end up killing somebody,” Harry thought, “would you ever like to
stay longer in crime scene, Ron?”

“You're right…” Ron said, dropping his shoulder, “I'd vamoose!”

“There was no sign of a struggle,” Hermione said next. “That means Russelpunk let his killer in.
He should be someone he trusted, or in close contact with.”

“Then it boils down to Whipple!” Harry exclaimed. “He let Whipple in. Then we're back to our
first question: why would he want to kill Russelpunk?”

“How about this…” Ron started, though Harry and Hermione expected him to think of another bad
theory. “Whipple knew Seymour had collected some kind of evidence to prove there were really Death
Eaters in Hogwarts - something he and Fudge strongly denies. Seymour told us that in his office
before, right? Whipple is a Death Eater, and so is Russelpunk. Seymour might have stolen something
they wanted back real bad, and he locked it in his chest while he looked for more. Whipple ordered
Russelpunk to break in at Seymour's office and steal back the evidence, whatever it was.

“Now, Russelpunk did what he was told to do and got the evidence back to his possession. Whipple
knew Seymour was on to him but he lacked proof. It was only a matter of time when Seymour had
enough proof to identify Russelpunk as a Death Eater. Whipple needed to silence Russelpunk or else
he'd be linked, so he killed him…does that make any sense?”

Harry and Hermione looked at each while they considered Ron's theory. It sounded wild and
out of whack, but they noted it jibed well with real events.

“Seymour did take out something from Russelpunk's office when he checked the crime scene,”
Harry mused. “Some white cloth and a silver thing - I swear I've seen that somewhere before -
but where?”

“Possibly a Death Eater mask and robe…I've seen one of those, too, in You-Know-What,” Ron
suggested, and his eyes went round along with Harry's then it dawned upon them what it
meant.

“Then do you think,” Hermione said, a little breathless, “it was Russelpunk's Death Eater
robe and mask that he stole back from Seymour's chest?”

“Most probably,” said Harry excitedly. “Russelpunk knew it was the most damning evidence against
him. If he got caught alive with it, Whipple knew he'd sing like a canary! Seymour was on to
Russelpunk, right? He murdered him before anyone could arrest and ask him questions. That makes
sense to me!”

Ron nodded. “And that's probably why Whipple wanted to arrest us at once without conducting
any investigation back at the DADA teacher's office. He tried to seize the opportunity to pin
us to the crime and he'll go scot-free! Then why did he leave the robe and mask when he
could?”

“It was well hidden,” Hermione said. “If I were Whipple who got stressed out after killing
Russelpunk, I'd never find the very thing I wanted to get in time even if it stared right in
front of me. Seymour instead found it after he thoroughly searched for more clues…WCSI's are
trained for that…”

Harry suddenly looked extremely sad and guilty, and Hermione noticed it. “Harry, what's
wrong?” she asked concernedly.

“It's all my fault…” he groaned.

“What's your fault?” Ron asked, frowning.

Harry glanced at Hermione and Ron then stared back down on the snow. “Dumbledore planted his
fingerprint on the knife to save us - I'm now sure of it. He didn't have to walk to the
knife and handle it, he did it by magic. Seymour didn't see the print the first time, but in
the second, he did. That explains it. If I didn't insist on taking a look inside
Russelpunk's office, Dumbledore wouldn't have smeared his own name just to bail us out of a
bad situation…and he'd still be with us…”

Hermione and Ron looked at each other sadly, knowing Harry was right. But they didn't want
to blame him further and they searched for a way to ease Harry's feelings. There was no point
to make anybody else feel down at a time like this.

“We didn't know that was going to happen at all, Harry,” Hermione said soothingly. “Please
don't blame yourself - we would have wanted to know everything we could about the mystery
that's happening around us, and I agree there's no other way we can know other than looking
for all the clues ourselves.”

“I - I should have listened to you, Hermione,” he said, shaking his head.

“What's done is done, Harry,” she said softly, leaning her chin on his shoulder, looking up
at him. “We'll do what we can to keep ourselves safe from now on - Dumbledore would want us to
do that. We've never seen the last of him, I'm sure of that. He'll be back…”

“You think so?” Harry said, turning his head towards her.

“Yeah, I know so,” she smiled and rested her head slowly on his shoulder, making Harry feel a
little better and hopeful that Dumbledore's absence was just temporary.

“As long as we're together, no one can touch you, mate,” Ron assured, and Hermione seconded
it.

“Thanks, both of you,” Harry told them gratefully. “I don't know what to do without
you.”

They didn't talk further for a few minutes, allowing themselves to think more about what
they had discussed in their own.

“Are you both thinking of going to Hogsmeade tomorrow?” Harry asked Ron and Hermione later.

“I will if you would,” Ron answered uncertainly. “Why, do you have second thoughts?”

“Well, sort of,” Harry admitted slowly. “I don't know…how about you Hermione?”

Hermione removed her head on Harry's shoulder and looked back at him gently with a hint of
disappointment on her face. Slowly, she replied, “Yes…well, I was still kind of hoping our, uhm,
you know…date will still…”

Harry slapped his forehead.

“How can you think of that after what happened, Hermione?” Ron blurted out suddenly, but he fell
silent when Harry restrained him from talking further with a hand over his arm.

“Hermione, I'm sorry…” Harry said guiltily. “I'm so sorry if I forgot all about it!
After what happened with Dumbledore, it just got lost in my mind…”

Hermione, however, suddenly felt ashamed. “Harry - I never meant to…” she said quickly. “We can
call if off if you say so…I won't mind at all - honest! Your safety is more important than a
mere get-together…”

“How can we be sure if we'll be safer alone in Hogwarts when everybody else is in Hogsmeade,
right?” Harry said, smiling.

“Oh…I don't know…”

It was Harry's turn to look disappointed. He personally believed that the Hogsmeade day was
entirely Fudge's idea to repair his failing image, and staying in Hogwarts with no one else
around but the Ministry wizards/Death Eaters was more likely dangerous.

“Hermione, do I have to ask you again for a date?” he asked slowly. “I'm sure we're
better off with the whole school there - no one will try to take me away when there are too many
people around, right? I was really looking forward for tomorrow - I only forgot about it for a
while…please?”

Hermione just stared at him indecisively. Harry began to regret ever asking Ron and Hermione if
they'd really go to Hogsmeade the same day.

Ron, sensing that Harry really did want to go on a date with Hermione and the Hogsmeade day was
the best time for it, he said “We've seen the announcement on the board - all teachers and
students are required to attend. I don't know what they will do to us if we don't, then
why'd we want to find out the hard way, huh? Looks like we have no choice. You two go on a
date. Have fun for a change. We need all the fun that we could get…” he smiled at both of them.

“Hogsmeade is safe from external attack, too,” Hermione thought loudly.

“Then you'll go with me?” Harry asked hopefully.

Hermione finally smiled, and nodded her head. “Okay…are you sure you're…”

“Yes, I'm sure,” Harry laughed. “We've been deprived of having some fun for a long time
- we need a break, don't you agree? Let's not worry about anything else for a day, can
we?”

“Okay, as long as we remember what Dumbledore told us…” Hermione started.

“Constant Vigilance!” Ron growled in an over-acting manner, shaking his fist in mid-air.

“That's Moody's…I mean Crouch's,” Harry reminded him.

“Close…”

-o0o-

Fudge immediately filled the post of Hogwarts Headmaster, Officer-in-Charge, by self appointment
until the School Governors had decided on whom to appoint now that Dumbledore was a fugitive.
Supposedly it was McGonagall (who'd automatically ascend to the post because she was the Deputy
Headmistress) except that she was also under detention in London for her previous “crime”. Everyone
in Hogwarts had learned about what happened in Russelpunk's office late that afternoon. As
expected, it came to everyone as a shock. Fudge had announced it but in a way that Harry, Ron, and
Hermione knew wasn't true. Fudge told Hogwarts that Horace Whipple had caught Dumbledore in the
act of stabbing Russelpunk tried to kill him, too, when he tried to save the professor. For that,
he would also be charged with frustrated murder on top of first-degree murder.

Fudge's takeover of the Headmaster's post didn't come without the usual conspiracy
theories from the students, of course. Since it was unsurprisingly incredible that Dumbledore could
do such a thing as to murder a person in cold blood, many believed it was another one of
Fudge's ploy to wrest control of Hogwarts - being a power hungry megalomaniac was impressed
upon him ever since he declared the State of Emergency for no other reason but to save his own job.
Even though they thought of these theories, the students could still do nothing and just go on with
the flow.

“What's going to happen to Hogwarts?” was the most common question Harry, Ron, and Hermione
heard from most of their schoolmates around the Great Hall at dinner that night. Nobody knew of the
answer, of course; “Ask Trelawny” was the quip of the day.

Fudge, who visibly looked excited with his temporary assignment as Headmaster, seemed to have
been enjoying the novelty of doing dull speeches in front of the student body. For the whole time
at dinner, he would suddenly stand up from Dumbledore's chair out of the blue and say
something, even though not everyone cared to listen to him (except most of the Slytherins). The
only thing that earned the attention of the students was his talk about the special Hogsmeade day
scheduled for the next morning.

“I do hope you recognize the significance of this event, dear ladies and gentlemen,” he recited
loudly. “It proves that things have gone rapidly back to normal, not that the state of affairs were
abnormal to begin with, but the wizard population has fortunately learned about the dire effects of
listening in to and making false stories about You-Know-Who's return - the rumor mongering and
unrest among militants has died down. They have finally understood how it affects the peace. This,
I can say, was the rationale behind the decision of your Minister of Magic to declare the State of
Emergency. Its purpose to preserve and maintain order has born fruit. History will judge me kindly,
I assure you. I shall lift the State of Emergency in a few days when we find that the threat has
passed.”

Fudge expected the Great Hall to make a thunderous applause, but the result was too far from
what he had imagined. Only a few students clapped their hands, and none of the teachers. He acted
as if he didn't mind, but his face betrayed his feelings. What he said next even suggested his
temper was rising - his reddening face said so.

“Whether you like it or not, everybody - I mean everybody - must participate in tomorrow's
Hogsmeade day. Anyone caught left at Hogwarts will be punished severely by either suspension or
expulsion. I am the acting Headmaster now. This is my decree, and I have the absolute power to
impose these measures to guarantee compliance! My Ministry Wizards here will patrol the school
grounds and detain those who are caught not in Hogsmeade - you have no reason not to be there.
Furthermore, your attire must be your Type-A uniforms with winter apparel like scarves, winter
cloaks, robes, and gloves. No exceptions.”

Seeing that nobody was reacting, he furrowed his eyebrows.

“Look, isn't that what you all want? I'm giving you a very big favor to have the time of
your lives and it will look bad if we're not united. Please appreciate what I'm trying to
give to you. I…” he looked down at Whipple who was sitting on McGonagall's chair and yanking
his coat for attention. Whipple whispered something to him.

Hermione and Ron then looked at each other and made faces. They both thought Fudge was really
losing it now - he looked like he was pleading his case in front of everybody it was pathetic.

Fudge let out a silly smile. “As I was saying - tomorrow, I want you all to have fun - forget
about what had happened in the past month and look towards the future. Remember, everybody must be
in Hogsmeade - no excuses. We must now rest for a wonderful day tomorrow. Good night.” When he
stopped his speech, his face suddenly fell into a frown and he angrily beckoned Whipple to follow
him out of the side access door.

“Now we know what he'll do to us if we get caught behind,” Ron hissed. “Forced fun,
Hogsmeade is tomorrow…who wants to get expelled for not getting some fun, right?”

Hermione, meanwhile, looked rattled. The term “expulsion” had always been one of her worst
nightmares.

“What is it to him if anyone chooses not to go, huh, like us?” Harry asked as he walked with Ron
and Hermione together along the corridors to his detention. “Just asking, Hermione,” he said
quickly, seeing her extremely anxious face.

“I don't know - but is it really a compelling reason to be expelled?” Ron said. “That's
too harsh! I'm sure parents will sue him mercilessly for it he'll grow poor.”

“Let's not test it, please?” Hermione pleaded.

Harry's tenth detention tonight was barely halfway through the total of all boys'
lavatories he was ordered to clean up. Up to now he still didn't know it, but since the
beginning Hermione had helped him magically to lessen his effort (Flitwick had taught her so). With
Ron now was their good friend again and free to join in after the ill-conceived two-man rule had
been cancelled, detention seemed more like a little party for the three friends.

Nearing the end of detention, they heard a knock on the door.

“I guess that's Seymour,” Hermione said, and she let him in after opening the door.

“How're you doing, Mr. Potter?” he asked politely after he settled down on a stool.

“Okay, I guess,” Harry answered slowly, mopping the tiled floor.

“I'm very sorry about what happened to the Headmaster today, Mr. Potter,” Seymour sighed.
“I'm anxious to explain to you my side about all this, if you'll let me…”

Hermione turned her gaze at Harry, who smiled slightly and nodded his head. “You can call me
Harry, sir, and this is Hermione and Ron. They're my best friends.”

“Thank you…nice to know you, Harry, Hermione, and Ron,” Seymour said. “You can call me Henry if
you want. About what happened in the office today, I'm certain there was nothing on the knife
when I first examined it. It was thoroughly clear of any prints, but I found it shocking to say the
least to find a very well-defined one the second time. It's…it's just impossible.”

“Have you figured out why?” Hermione asked him.

“I think so - I suspect Professor Dumbledore imprinted it himself to save you from being taken
away by Whipple and Fudge. I don't believe Dumbledore killed Russelpunk. He has no clear motive
- but Fudge seems to have invented it for him already…”

“Who do you think killed Russelpunk then, Henry?” Harry asked next. This very thing was what he
was most interested about, and there was nothing better than to listen to the opinion from the
investigator himself.

“It's unethical to point to a culprit whilst the investigation is still fresh, but I have a
strong hunch it's Whipple. My reason, you may ask? Have you seen me take out something near
Russelpunk's body?”

Harry nodded his head. “Yeah, it was a white cloth and something silvery - we suspect it was
some Death Eater robe and mask.”

Seymour regarded Harry for a moment, and he smiled. He looked to be impressed of how observant
Harry was. “That's right. It was a Death Eater robe and mask.”

“Whose was it?” asked Ron.

“Russelpunk's,” Seymour answered immediately. “He probably found out that I already had it
and that's why he broke in to my office a few nights ago, you know, when I found you and your
friends in there.”

“Wait a minute,” said Ron, looking bright in the face. “I bet Russelpunk was killed by Whipple
because you were on to him, and he didn't want Russelpunk to spill the beans on Whipple if you
arrested him, right?”

Seymour again looked at Ron for a moment, also with a sign of being impressed with his deductive
skills. “That's absolutely right, Ron,” he said, grinning. “That's the same theory I've
been working on. You have what it takes to be an investigator when you leave school. Good
work.”

“Hear that? I thought of that theory myself, too,” Ron said, nudging his elbow at Hermione and
looked at her wearing a silly smirk, feeling proud of being praised by a professional WCSI. She,
however, was more annoyed of him than feeling proud for him, too.

“Then why can't you arrest Whipple?” Harry said. “You have a strong theory…”

“It's just circumstantial, I'm afraid,” Seymour sighed heavily. “We don't just
arrest people out of a hunch - we need strong evidence. Unfortunately Professor Dumbledore
presented himself as the murderer to save you from being arrested, and what's done is done.
It's quite - heroic for him to that, I admire it. Well, if there's anything I could do for
you to ease your pain, please ask.”

Harry smiled. “Thank you, Henry, but we can handle our pain ourselves, thanks. We only need to
be extra careful - maybe you could give us an insider what the Death Eaters you know may be up
to…it could at least help us avoid them.”

“Of course, but I can't make any promises since I'm not a part of them,” Seymour said,
“though we mingle every now and then I could relay to you what's going on in their minds. But
there's one thing I heard that you'll be interested in. I have to make it a point to share
this to you.”

“What is it?” Hermione asked interestedly.

Seymour looked around nervously as if there were other people around who might be within earshot
of their conversation. “There's talk from people inside the Ministry that someone important had
suggested the Hogsmeade day to Fudge to take everybody out of Hogwarts except you, Harry.”

“What?” Harry, Ron, and Hermione said at the same time.

“You mean to say this Hogsmeade day was meant for me again?” Harry groaned.

“Yes - that's more likely so. It's just a conspiracy theory from my closest aides there.
They usually are right, but the story is still fresh it's sketchy. From what I've heard,
part of the alleged `plan' was to detain you here in Hogwarts while everybody was outdoors. For
me, it makes a lot of sense. Whipple is strangely assigning all the Death Eater wizards to guard
the school tomorrow, and everybody else I know who's clean, including me, will be posted in
Hogsmeade. That, I believe, would make it easy for Whipple and his men to do what they want and
kidnap Harry without being stopped. Dumbledore's unexpected leave is a big bonus for them…”

“Whoa!” Ron exclaimed. “That sounds bad - Harry's going to Hogsmeade, right, Harry?”

“Yeah, then by all means!” Harry said, looking scared.

“You have to make sure you do, Harry, I ask you for your sake - Burton and I will be around to
watch you. They won't try anything when there are a lot of people around. I'll give you
protection, even if it causes to me to be fired from my job…I have to warn you though - Whipple is
a very crafty man. He might find you tonight and slap you with a trumped-up charge and you
can't do anything to contest it.”

“I think what Henry means,” said Hermione, “is that we must not give Whipple any reason to
detain you, Harry, isn't that what you're trying to say, Henry?”

“That's right, Hermione,” Seymour answered. “Please do think about what I told you,
okay?”

“Okay, thanks,” said Harry.

“I'll have to go now - at least I can sleep better now that I've told you my side,
though I'll still be anxious about seeing you in Hogsmeade tomorrow,” Seymour said, standing up
from his school. “I hope to see you then…and be careful, the three of you,” He bid goodbye to them
and went out of the door.

Harry then faced Hermione and said, “So what do you think?”

Hermione heave a sigh. “If the rumor is true about the plan to hold you back in Hogwarts while
the rest of us are out and away, then the most logical thing to do is make sure Whipple doesn't
catch up on you before then…”

“I agree with Hermione,” Ron said. “Let's make sure we'll get to Hogsmeade tomorrow with
Harry. I'll breathe easier if we make it there.”

“Okay, fine,” Harry grinned. “Thanks for your concern, both of you.”

“You're welcome, Harry,” Hermione replied. “I think it's getting late - let's go
back to the Gryffindor tower now.”

A little later after gathering up all their cleaning instruments, Harry, Ron, and Hermione
walked back to the Gryffindor tower at half past nine. The corridors were deserted as the curfew
still has not been lifted yet. Because of what Seymour had suggested to them, Harry was anxious to
reach their destination soon otherwise they'd probably be seen by none other Whipple who, if
the conspiracy theory in the Ministry of Magic was true, was probably out to make sure he
wouldn't make it to Hogsmeade the next day. Hermione and Ron shared Harry's feelings; they
walked a little faster than usual.

The very thing that they feared to happen did come. Just as they rounded up the second to the
last corner towards the tower, Whipple eerily came out from nowhere.

“What're you three doing walking around this late at night?” he growled behind them. Harry,
Ron, and Hermione jumped, and they froze in the middle of the corridor not knowing what to answer
him.

“Oh, it's the three of you again,” Whipple said, looking irritated but amused. “Well?”

“Er, Harry Potter here, sir,” said Hermione, “just came from serving detention and I've been
assigned to make sure he does it and escort him, sir.”

“I see,” he said quietly. “Then what's this red-haired one doing out, too? Is he also
serving detention?”

“Y-yes, sir, I am,” Ron lied. Hermione shot a look at him.

“Then where are your clearance ID's? I don't see you wearing them.”

Harry closed his eyes, disgusted with himself. He realized he forgot to bring his tonight, and
it's like giving Whipple a very good excuse to hold him now. Ron shouldn't have lied, too,
because he never had been issued one.

“Harry, where's your ID?” Hermione asked incredulously.

Whipple then lectured Hermione. “It's supposed to be your responsibility as a prefect to
ensure they're wearing their ID's, miss. Since I don't see that they have, I'm
afraid I have to bring you in my office to detain them.” He moved closer to Harry.

“No!” Harry exclaimed.

“What?” Whipple said, irked with Harry's defiance. “You have to follow the rules, Potter,
you're still under the rules of the curfew!”

“Sorry, sir,” Hermione said, “but I think he means that he has his ID somewhere in his pocket,
isn't that right, Harry?”

Harry gazed at Hermione guiltily. He knew his ID wasn't in his pocket for sure, but maybe it
could buy him just a few seconds to allow him to think of another way out. “Uh, yes, I have it here
somewhere.” He acted as if he was looking for it in all his pockets, but he was quickly running out
of them.

Whipple knew Harry was merely acting, so he shook his head and grabbed Harry and Ron's arm.
“Stop wasting my time and come with me!” he snarled.

Hermione held Harry and Ron back, to Whipple's extreme annoyance. “No, please, sir, no!” she
pleaded.

“Out of my way, prefect!” he shouted. There would have become a very serious altercation between
the four of them if Seymour hadn't appeared from another corridor.

“Oh, there you are, you three!” Seymour yelled. Harry, Ron, Hermione and Whipple stopped what
they were doing and looked around at him. “I was looking for you - when I checked the lavatory to
see if it was clean, I found this lying on the floor.” He handed Harry and Ron each a clearance ID
as soon as he reached them.

Harry and Ron looked at each other, both surprised but relieved, and they decided to play
along.

“So that's why I couldn't find my ID's in my pockets!” Harry laughed
artificially.

“Yeah!” Ron said, slapping his own face. “How stupid of us!”

Whipple looked visibly foiled, He grabbed the ID's, and seeing Harry and Ron's face and
name on them, he gave them back to them. He gazed at Seymour, who was smiling back at him
satisfactorily.

“Saved again by somebody, you lucky little monsters,” Whipple said severely, looking at Harry,
Ron, and Hermione one by one. “Seymour, I thought it's very clear that we're not supposed
to help students - we're here to discipline them.”

“Actually, sir, I do find these three students very disciplined - only that they just left their
ID's unintentionally at their place of work. But I assure you, it will only be for this time
and shall detain them if I catch them violating the rules.”

“Very well, move on if you will… I'll let you go this time. Just so you know, you've all
earned my ire - you've gotten away the last time, and this time, too. But next time, I'm
sure you won't be able to. You'll be sorry if you cross me again in a bad mood - mark my
words.”

Ron and Hermione stared at Whipple, feeling threatened by what he head said. But for Harry, it
was clear that Whipple was bent on preventing him from ever stepping out of Hogwarts tomorrow, he
was now sure of it. Whipple then walked off out of sight.

“Thanks for bailing us out again, Henry,” Ron said, blowing air out of his lungs. Seymour looked
pale, and he was sweating profusely. He took out a folded wash cloth and wiped his sweaty face with
it.

“That was a close call,” he wheezed. “He could have fired me right then…”

“Come again?” Hermione said.

“He could have fired me - and I won't be able to look after you tomorrow…”

“But he would've had put us in the dungeons if we wanted to tonight,” Harry pointed out,
“then it wouldn't have mattered if you weren't in Hogsmeade for tomorrow - we wouldn't
be there at all…”

“Yeah, of course,” Seymour laughed.

Hermione chuckled along with him. “Henry, I think you're so stressed out you're confused
with your priorities - you should relax a little…”

“Yes, I think you're right,” Seymour said, still having a miniature nervous breakdown.
“Stress does get the most out of me…”

“But look at the bright side,” Ron added. “This shows that your friends' theory about
Whipple trying to hold on to Harry might be true, isn't it?”

“Yeah…yeah,” Seymour said, thinking about it. “Fortunately. I mean….Ohhhh, I'm so hopeless
when I'm stressed out. I got to ask you to go off - the sooner you get to your dormitories, the
better. I'll see you tomorrow, I hope,” he said walking off.

“Henry, thanks again, okay?” Harry called.

“Y-You're welcome,” Seymour replied.

“Did you really mean what you said about detaining us the next time?”

Seymour smiled and said, “Of course not.” He vanished from sight after he rounded up the next
corner to the right.

“That doesn't look encouraging,” Ron thought audibly when they resumed their trek back to
the Gryffindor tower.

“What is?” Harry asked.

“Seymour - it looked like he couldn't stand to face Whipple back there. How much more could
he protect you and us when a situation gets even more serious?”

“Yeah, I get your point,” Hermione said. “But let's credit him by doing his best to make
sure Whipple didn't have an excuse to arrest us tonight. After hearing Whipple talk tonight,
I'm now quite convinced the rumor might be true. They're doing all sorts of ingenious
things so that they can snatch Harry away from us…we won't let `em.”

Ron agreed with Hermione. “Then if we make it Hogsmeade tomorrow, I'm sure they wouldn't
do anything there - that will allow us to find out what they're up to next. After all, we have
Seymour now. He's getting pretty handy - look, he even invented my own detention ID!”

“You feel okay Harry?” Hermione asked him.

“Yeah, don't worry about me,” Harry assured. “I'm not afraid of Whipple.”

Ron told the Fat Lady the password and they entered the Common Room.

“Let's meet at the courtyard for assembly tomorrow, okay?” Hermione said as they passed by
the fireplace. “Harry?”

“Sure, looking forward to it,” he said to her, smiling. “I know a good place where we can have
our date…You're gonna like it, if we can find seats…”

Hermione smiled back, and she blushed. “I will. Sweet dreams, Harry.” She then walked up the
spiral staircase and entered the girls' dormitory.

“Yeah, sweet dreams,” Harry sighed.

-o0o-

Literally everyone in Hogwarts occupied the courtyard that was usually used as an assembly point
during every Hogsmeade day the next morning. It took longer than usual for Argus Filch to call out
the names of every known student in Hogwarts it took two hours (the students and faculty became
bored to death waiting for him to finish). When Filch at last hoarsely announced the name “Zultz,
Bernard”, Hogwarts erupted into cheers. Everyone was accounted for, including anyone who was
suffering from a cold (Fudge was serious about not to exempt anyone from Hogsmeade today), much to
Madam Pomfrey's extreme disapproval.

Hogsmeade was naturally overcrowded this time, and the presence of the unruly first and second
years didn't help. Harry, Ron, and Hermione found it enormously difficult to punch through the
thick group of bodies squeezing against each other to have a chance to shop, and the restaurants
were always full with a huge waiting list. It took anyone ten-fold more times to just buy a single
lemon drop in Honeydukes because the helpless but happy witch who owned the store was simply
overwhelmed giving attention to every customer she saw.

“You call this fun?” Ron groaned to Harry as he stood for half an hour trying to pay for his
basketful of sweets. “My stomach's growling already.”

Harry placed his own selection of candies in Ron's basket and gave him three Galleons. “Ron,
please do me favor and could you please pay for the candies? I think I'm running out of time to
have a proper date with Hermione.”

“Hey,” Ron said, his mouth hanging open as he stared at the Galleons. “But, Harry, you're
leaving me more than what you're candies are worth…”

“It's to pay for yours, too,” Harry shrugged.

“Oh, Harry, I shouldn't…”

“Please?” Harry pleaded.

“Well, okay! Thanks a lot. Where're you going then?”

“Anywhere with a table and two empty seats!” Harry said, fighting his way out through an
ever-increasing flood of customers and waving at Ron goodbye.

“See you around then!” Ron called just as he drowned in a sea of bodies.

Hermione was waiting patiently outside Honeydukes for Harry. “Had success shopping inside
there?” she giggled.

“I didn't,” Harry replied, smiling, “but Ron will soon - in about a couple of hours. Now I
know why Dumbledore prefers us to have different Hogsmeade days with the other years…this is
crazy!” He looked around, whistling at the flow of human traffic around him.

“Fudge doesn't seem to mind, though,” Hermione said darkly, looking up at the Minister of
Magic who was on a balcony sipping some tea and being interviewed by a reporter from the Daily
Prophet. He looked jolly and proud for this day.

“He's just about the only person who doesn't have to fight through the crowd - he's
got his own servants to do everything for him,” Harry replied, seeing a haggard-looking wizard
bring him a paper bag full of Honeydukes sweets.

“Where to?” Hermione asked Harry.

“C'mon, let's try to find someplace peaceful,” Harry said as he held her hand. “How
about Hog's Head?”

“Are you kidding?” Hermione goggled at him. “No student ever goes in there - it's too
dodgy!”

“That's the idea,” Harry said, grinning. “Do we have much choice? Hog's Head's about
our only hope for a proper date.”

Hermione looked around her. All the other restaurants were packed with waiting customers.
Shrugging and smiling, she said, “Sure, lead the way!”

Hog's Head was located at the other end of Hogsmeade from they were, and Harry pulled
Hermione through the tide of students on the way there. After ten minutes and fifty yards later, he
said, “Judging from our speed, we'd be in Hog's Head early tonight.”

“What're we going to do?” Hermione asked.

Harry then saw Hagrid's giant back just fifty feet ahead of them as he emerged out from a
store. Harry observed that everyone on his path didn't dare to get trampled by the walking
giant and always went out of his way to give him space to walk ahead.

“I have an idea,” Harry said, facing at Hermione again. She nodded at him, looking
bewildered.

“Oy, Hagrid!” Harry yelled, waving his hand in the air. Hagrid had heard him and turned around -
students who were behind him before that immediately stayed clear off in front of him.

“'Lo, Harry! How yer doin?” Hagrid shouted jovially.

“Wait for us! We're coming!” Harry said, and Hagrid nodded his head. Harry turned to
Hermione again and smiled. “Hold tight - this is going to be a wild ride.”

“What do you mean?” she said. Hermione was startled when Harry wrapped his left arm around her
waist and pressed her closer to him securely. He took out his wand and pointed it up towards a
steel horizontal flagpole halfway between them and Hagrid.

“Oh, no…” she said, and embraced Harry's body tightly knowing what he was about to do.

“*Carpe Retractum*!” Harry bellowed. A whip-like strand of shimmering rope whooshed out the
tip of his wand and grappled the pole. Harry and Hermione felt a tug; they were lifted off their
feet and zipped towards it.

The sight of Harry and Hermione above as they swung the glowing rope all the way to Hagrid's
made more than a few students scream in awe. Hagrid caught Harry and Hermione gently as they landed
softly on his chest.

“That's was fantastic!” Hermione exclaimed with glee as Hagrid gently settled her and Harry
on the ground. Students laughed, cheered, and clapped their hands at them - even Cornelius Fudge
from far away raised his tea cup at them as a form of salute.

“Good thinkin', Harry,” Hagrid said, patting him on the shoulder and making his knees
collapse on the snow. “Oh, sorry `bout that. Where're yeh both headed teh?”

“Hog's Head,” Hermione replied, helping Harry stand up.

“No kiddin'!” Hagrid exclaimed, smiling down on her. “I'm headin' there, too. Wanna
come?”

“Yeah,” Harry. “I was hoping you clear the way for us, you know. The crowd's too much to
handle.”

“Sure, I know what yeh mean,” Hagrid laughed and winked. “Just don't stay teh near under me
belly because I can't see anything' under it I migh' step on yeh…”

Like Harry had hoped, their path towards Hog's Head was clear, thanks to Hagrid's
daunting size. As they stood by the entrance, they saw the pub was devoid of students as Harry had
expected - only that there were some scruffy looking wizards getting drunk already this early on
the day though they looked harmless. The bartender looked at Harry and Hermione suspiciously, but
they didn't mind him, although Hermione grabbed Harry's arm and inched back behind him
because she felt very uneasy with all the eyes staring at them.

“Don' worry `bout `em, you two,” Hagrid told them. “They won' touch yeh when I'm
around'. I'll be at the table beside the back wall. They have butterbeers here, too, and I
`spect they're abou' ten years old. So much the better, I say! Just don't try the
Firewhiskey or yeh migh' get in ter a lot `o trouble.”

Harry and Hermione smiled edgily at Hagrid, chose a small round table near the exit, and settled
themselves down on the chairs. The bartender went over to them and *demanded* their
orders.

“Uh, two Butterbeers, please,” Harry said. “And do you have anything to eat around here?”

“Yes, if you could take it,” the bartended replied.

“Sorry, but what do you mean by that?” Hermione asked.

“Jus' give `em two tuna sandwiches, Marty,” Hagrid called from the back. “And absolutely no
earth worms!”

Marty the Bartender whipped around and walked back to the kitchen to prepare their orders.
Hermione swallowed hard.

“Sorry if our date isn't the way you imagined it to be, Hermione,” Harry apologized
sheepishly. “I promise to make it up to you sometime - maybe in London or the next Hogsmeade day -
I'm sure it'll be less crowded then…”

Hermione smiled. “Oh, Harry, don't worry about this, this is great,” she said sincerely.
“What matters is we're together on our first date and I'll never, ever, forget this.” She
held both of Harry's hands above the table.

Harry smiled back. “Yeah, it's unforgettable because our first date was at Hog's Head
with Earthworm and Tuna sandwich,” he joked, and Hermione laughed. “You know, Hermione, I've
been dreaming about having a date with you for a long time…”

“Oh?” she said brightly.

“Yeah, since before Christmas…”

“Oh,” she giggled. “That long ago, huh?” She giggled again. “Actually, I've been wishing
you'd go and ask me for a date, too, a long time ago …”

“Really?” he smiled.

“Yes,” she replied, staring down on the table top, blushing. “Since…since our first year…” She
gazed back at Harry.

Harry hung his mouth slightly upon hearing what Hermione had said. It meant that she was
secretly smitten with him ever since they first knew each other. When Hermione saw Harry's
expression on his face, she smiled again at him and blushed even further.

“I - I didn't notice…” Harry said slowly.

“Of course you didn't notice,” she laughed gently, leaning over closer to him. “You're a
boy! Always talking about Quidditch…”

“Oh…Oh yeah, th-that's why,” Harry said, laughing. He fell silent when he stared at
Hermione's brown eyes. He felt another big tug in his heart.

*It's now or never, Harry!* he told himself. *You can do it!*

“You know, Hermione, I've been wanting to tell you this…”

“Yes?”

“…but I hope you won't get mad at me for saying it - that's what's holding me back
for ages to tell you…”

Hermione's eyes glowed with expectation of what Harry had wanted to tell her. “Harry, I
promise I won't,” she said breathlessly. “Please tell me…”

Harry hesitated for a while, and he looked back at Hermione's eyes. Her eyes gave him
strength. “I - I really like you…more than a best friend…”

“Awww…” Hermione said, squeezing Harry's hands tighter. “I like you, too, Harry, very much.
Ever since we met in the train, I already have…all these years, I've waited for this
moment…”

Harry smiled broadly. “Then you won't get mad at me if I ask you to be my…you know, my
girlfriend?”

Hermione then went into a fit of giggles. “Yes!” she said happily. “I - I mean, no - I'm not
mad of you for asking - but yes!” She leaned over towards Harry and kissed him on his lips,
slightly surprising him but he then sighed deeply as if he was floating on cloud nine. Harry was
totally speechless. He felt wonderful - Hermione had finally accepted him after months of wondering
how she'd take it.

Harry thanked her profusely, and it felt weird as it was wonderful when Hermione moved her chair
beside his, and pressed herself against him. At first he was scared of putting his arm around her
shoulder, but Hermione encouraged him to do so by pulling his forearm even tighter around her neck
and resting her head under his. Harry was now sure this was now a start of a new romance, and he
was now beginning to learn how not to worry too much about doing this.

Marty the bartender had arrived with their orders - two Butterbeers and a couple of Tuna
sandwiches. He assured them that it only contained tuna, because if Hagrid knew it had earthworms
inside, he'd break his neck

Before Harry could feed Hermione with her sandwich, she frowned upon looking out the window

“Hermione, what is it?” Harry asked and looked out of the window himself.

Henry Seymour and Peter Burton came towards them and said from outside over the window, “Sorry
if I disturb your little date for a second, Harry,” he said, “but I need to talk to Hermione the
prefect for a while in private, is that okay?”

“Er…” Harry started, but Hermione said, “I'll just beout for a minute, Harry,” she said
smiling. “You stay put…” she stood up, kissed him again on his lips, and ran out through the door
towards Seymour, who had shifted towards another spot on the sidewalk away from Harry.

Harry couldn't remove the smile on his face just thinking about Hermione as he shook his
Butterbeer to froth. Hermione's meeting with Seymour only lasted for a minute, and she walked
back inside Hog's Head and sat down beside Harry, placing something inside her robe pocket.

“So what was that all about?” Harry asked her.

“Nothing.”

“Huh?”

“I said nothing!” she said a little forcefully, making Harry jerk back slightly to get a wider
view of her. She looked very serious, and it made Harry feel uneasy.

“It's okay to tell, Hermione,” Harry said quietly, “It's only me…”

“Didn't you hear what I just said?” she said irritably. “It's nothing!”

Harry nodded and kept quiet. He was worried his little romance with her was starting to get
sour, and he didn't know why.

“Oh, Harry, I'm sorry…”

“No, it's okay,” he lied, looking straightly ahead and gulping his Butterbeer.

“Harry, it's just that…” Hermione tried to explain, but she never got to say what she had to
say when they felt their table shaking, and their bottles of Butterbeer edging towards the end of
the table because of the vibration.

“Wh-What's happening?” Harry said, staring at his bottle. “Some kind of an earthquake?”

The table shook more violently, and Harry could hear something thundering just west of them. He
looked around in confusion with Hermione, and then they heard students starting to scream. Their
screams turned into shrieks, and from inside Harry saw the students running away from something in
panic. They didn't scatter unlike during a real earthquake, but they seem to have seen
something coming from the west that they ran away towards an opposite direction.

The sound of thunder became louder, and it became much clearer by the second that it wasn't
the earth that was making it. They more sounded like hooves - a stampede.

Harry grabbed Hermione's hand and started to get out of the pub. “Hermione, I think we got
to get out of here,” he said, and Hermione nodded grimly.

Then they saw them.

Black dogs the size of bulls came bearing down towards them. They looked like colossal wolves,
but with much larger body mass, red fiery eyes, enormous paws, and multiple sets of sharp fangs.
The giant dogs barked deafeningly as they searched for their victims. An unlucky drunkard strayed
directly in their path and was trampled to death - a fleeing goblin had been bit whole thrown to
the side like a rag doll. There was total pandemonium outside and Harry knew very well not to watch
a second too long and get out of the pub or else they will be trapped.

As the dogs came dangerously too close to the Hog's Head for anyone to evacuate, Hagrid
shouted, “Harry - Hermione! Don't get out of the door!”

“What're we going to do???” Harry yelled back.

“Get through the back door - right here!” Hagrid pointed towards the kitchen, and Harry pulled
Hermione along with him. When they had crossed the doorway, he heard a loud crash coming from the
front window - a dog had forced itself inside. Hagrid could not fit in the “tiny” door and prodded
Harry to go on without him.

“Don' worry abou' me, go!” Hagrid said when Harry was reluctant to leave him trapped
inside the Hog's Head. “Remember they look jus' like puppies to me!”

Harry and Hermione had gone out an empty alleyway between some buildings. Nobody seemed to have
strayed into this part of Hogsmeade, though Harry didn't know where the alleyways headed to.
They could see at one end some fleeing students and wizards running at a street and followed by the
huge dogs. About a hundred feet away, one of the dogs had entered the alleyway right at Harry and
Hermione's path ahead! It stared at them for a while and slowly inched towards them,
considering them as their next victims. The massive dog literally filled the whole width of the
alleyway with its whole body Harry could not see what was behind it. Harry knew its mouth could
chew him easily and it was drooling profusely. Then it pounced and sprinted to their direction!

“Run!” Harry yelled, making an about-face along with Hermione. The alleyway looked endless and
narrow, and they didn't know if they could clear the other end of it. They ran for their lives;
the dog was quickly gaining on them, barking piercingly. Harry looked back, and he saw the dog
opened its mouth wide as it closed its distance between Harry and Hermione.

“Turn left! Left!” Harry told Hermione urgently, as he spotted a connecting alleyway up ahead.
The huge dog overshot the turn and screeched to a halt, but due to its large body almost as wide as
the alleyways, it had a very difficult time turning around at once thus giving Harry and Hermione
the opportunity to escape. The new alley ended up in an empty space void of people and dogs at the
edge of Hogsmeade. Just ahead of them was the edge of a forest that looked like a good place to
hide in.

“Shall we go there?” Harry asked Hermione breathlessly, and she nodded. They ran full out,
crawling under a barbed wire fence and hid behind a tree as they reached the edge of the forest.
They could hear more screaming the cracks of defensive magic coming from Hogsmeade. They didn't
know what was happening at the streets - they saw some students running out of the limits of the
village to look for refuge at another forest or the mountains. The dog that chased them had now
cleared the out of the alleyway, and sniffed the air for any sign of Harry and Hermione. Then a few
more black dogs had joined in. Sniffing collectively now, they knew where they had hidden and
thundered towards their direction, snapping the wire fence without feeling pain!

“C'mon, follow me!” Hermione told Harry, and she ran deeper into the forest. Harry followed
her, running up and down the roots and around the trees. Harry took a look behind he could see some
trees falling like being cut down (the dogs merely smashed themselves unto them). The dogs gave the
impression to have no real sense of pain as they plowed through the thick line of trees of ahead of
them. Harry knew this wasn't good.

Harry and Hermione had gotten out of a small clearing at the opposite side of the small forest -
to the bank of a river of thin ice. If they swam to cross it, the ice might break and they would
surely freeze to death. They whipped around and faced the forest again, and the giant dogs - now
more than thirty of them, emerged out of the trees and formed themselves in a semi-circle, looked
down on Harry and Hermione threateningly, growling, salivating for the chance to pounce. The dogs
have covered every escape route Harry and Hermione could see!

They were trapped.

Harry and Hermione took out their wands. Harry didn't know if he was powerful enough to fend
off even one of these gigantic dogs in front of him and Hermione. The dogs just stood on their
spot, staring down at them wildly, as if they were waiting for something before they moved in for
the kill.

Under their legs, several white-robed and masked men had emerged and walked slowly towards Harry
and Hermione. They were Death Eaters. Strangely, one of men's robes had blood soaked all
over.

Harry pointed his wand at them. If he couldn't handle the dogs, he thought, he could still
gallantly fight the Death Eaters before he'd die.

Harry raised his wand to curse them, but Hermione beat him to it.

“*Expelliarmus*!” Hermione bellowed, but it was Harry's wand that flew out of his
grasp.

Harry dropped his breath, and looked at Hermione. She had moved back away, pointed her wand at
him, her face expressionless, and was ready to curse him if he moved abruptly.

“Hermione…what?” he said incredulously.

Two of the Death Eaters removed their mask and Harry gasped. It was Henry Seymour and Peter
Burton. Their faces were filled with triumph.

“At last, the plan had worked,” Seymour said, pointing his wand at an unbelieving Harry, moving
over to Hermione, and placing a hand over her shoulder.

“The Dark Lord will be pleased that we have you again at last, Harry Potter. Thanks to Hermione
here - she'd been a big help to us ever since.”

-o0o-

Chapter 17 coming soon.

*Author's note: Shocked? Confused? Well, I do hope this came as a surprise, though I think
some of you had figured this out already ever since, so please tell me how surprising or how
predictable this story has been by leaving a review. I really need to know. Thanks!*

*What made Hermione to betray Harry? How could she do such a treacherous thing? The answers,
of course, will come in the next chapters.*

*Please check the top of this chapter from time to time in order to know when to expect
another update. Thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed this chapter.*

-->



18. The Fortress of Shadows
---------------------------



**Update** **(29 Nov 2004)****: Sorry if I'm a little slow th****is time. Lots of
work** **aside from writing! I'm still writing the next chapter. Please allow up to 2 days
from now for me to finish the next chapter (it's 6400 words in counting and my preferred
average is 9000 words per chapter****).**

*Author's note: Thanks to PottersPrincess, Arun, SEK19005 and LadyBlazey for the reviews!
I appreciate your comments and views about the last chapter. Did I say I'll update on
Wednesday? (grin).*

*On with show again!*

**Chapter 17**

**The Fortress of Shadows**

“*I* *d-don't believe it!!!*” Harry roared at Seymour who was standing beside
Hermione, patting her shoulder like a master commending a deserving servant. Hermione looked up at
him, smiling, and then gazed back at Harry threateningly. The gigantic black dogs kept on staring
at Harry as if they were hoping they'd be given the signal to start feasting on him.

Harry refused to accept that Hermione could ever betray him as Seymour had claimed. *It was
totally preposterous!* She was the girl he had made as his best friend, the girl he had trusted
on for many years, the girl who made the world a happy place for him to live in - the girl who he
had offered his heart just recently. Amid the absurdity of it, she was now undeniably standing
there at a small distance from him, pointing her wand, and wearing a look that showed she would
curse him immediately if he made a sudden move. It could amount to one thing: she regarded him like
an enemy now. Harry's eyes now were drenching in tears - he was extremely hurt with what
Hermione had done against him.

“Hermione, please tell me it isn't so, please!!!” he pleaded her. Unfortunately she
didn't care to respond.

Seymour laughed. “Yes, I'm afraid it is so, Harry,” he said, looking fondly at Hermione.
“Isn't it, my dear?”

Hermione nodded. “It's true, Harry,” she said without any slight hint of remorse. “It's
true I helped Henry and all of the Death Eaters in Hogwarts to capture you.”

“No!!!!” Harry yelled. “It's impossible!!!”

Seymour laughed again. “Yes, it *is* possible. She has proven herself to be an important
asset for our mission to hand you back to the Dark Lord. The proof is staring at you right now and
yet you're still not convinced, are you?” He then looked at Hermione again and said, “Tell him,
my dear. Tell him everything I'm sure will hurt him so. Tell him everything that will make him
believe you betrayed him.”

Hermione looked at Harry and turned even more serious. “I gave them vital information about your
activities, Harry,” she said. “I told them what you thought about everything that went on at
Hogwarts. I told them about what we saw Russelpunk doing back at the Quiddtich stadium and what we
suspected of him. My information helped the Death Eaters to think of a better plan to get you out
of the protection of Hogwarts - I was the one who casted the spell on the Snitch the day after to
lure you away from the school, Harry.”

Harry dropped his jaw a notch and stared at her disbelievingly. But Harry then remembered she
had rescued him with Ron and fought off those Death Eaters. She almost got herself killed with the
process. It didn't make any sense.

“Go on, tell him,” Seymour encouraged her even more. “Tell him more about what you did…”

Hermione nodded, still looking at Harry with her wand pointed at him. “I was the one who told
the Death Eaters about the Order and who their members were. It helped them go after the people I
named and made them look like they were fugitives.”

Harry shook his head incredulously again. This was too bad to be true. He observed Hermione
talking in a slightly monotone voice, but for the most time she seemed to be talking in her normal
way.

“I helped build Henry up for you and Ron,” Hermione went on. “I helped him convince you to trust
on him. I played along with him to gain your confidence - I asked him to roll up his sleeve to
prove to you that he didn't have the Dark Mark.”

“But I didn't see it…” Harry told her. “His arm was clear!”

“Yes, because he covered it first with a false skin…we made sure it was concealed when I was
going to ask about it…”

For added effect, Seymour extended his arm and rolled up his sleeve. His real arm was actually
hairy and coarse - the Dark Mark was clearly embedded on his skin. Harry narrowed his eyes on
him.

Hermione talked further. “I told Henry our theories about Russelpunk's murder and how we
suspected Whipple. I shared to them Ron's hypothesis about why Whipple killed Russelpunk, and
because of it Henry gave us his own view about the murder in the lavatory exactly what Ron said to
give more validity to it.

“I am and always was in on the plan for what brought you here today, Harry. It's fortunate
that you picked the right path for the trap and I didn't have to steer you here myself.
That's right, Harry, I helped them with everything…”

“After all these years, how could you just betray me like this?!?” Harry growled. She didn't
flinch on his question. Harry glowered at her even more.

The conversation was momentarily interrupted when Burton approached Seymour and he told him,
“Boss, the portal will show up any minute. What shall we do with the Dogs?”

“Order them to return to the kennels,” Seymour replied with confidence. “They have done
well.”

Burton was taken aback by his order. “But is it wise to do that before going to the Portal,
Boss? Perhaps it's better to relieve them only after we…”

“Don't contradict me, Peter!” Seymour shouted. “Do as I say!”

Burton nodded hesitantly and faced the giant dogs, which were rooted on their spot. With a flick
of the wand, they all vanished gradually, leaving only Harry, Hermione, and the small group of
Death Eaters alone.

Harry didn't know why Seymour made that hasty decision. Free from the added threat of the
dogs, Harry scanned the immediate area to try to find a way to escape. Hermione read the look in
his eyes and muttered, “Lartigo!” Harry was subjected to a painful spell of electrical shock made
by the buzzing rope from her wand. His knees fell to the ground as he shook in pain, and he slumped
on the snow almost out of breath.

“Good work, Hermione!” Seymour lauded her. “You're proving yourself to be an increasingly
valuable asset as time goes by. Having the brightest witch of your age sure has its big advantages,
even though you're just a Mudblood.”

Hermione didn't protest being called a `Mudblood' in any way. This wasn't like her
at all, Harry thought.

Seymour then looked at Harry next. “You see, Harry? She now doesn't hesitate hurting you
with all kinds of curses in the book - she now serves the Dark Lord!”

“What?!?” Harry exclaimed hoarsely, spitting snow out of his mouth, and looking up at Seymour
from the ground as he struggled to fight severe pain throughout his body to stand back up.
“Muggle-borns can't serve Voldemort - they're dead before he'll even find them useful.
You know, that, Hermione! Don't you? *Don't you?*”

She didn't answer him, of course.

“Perhaps you weren't listening to the Dark Lord the last time you were together,” Seymour
said. “He said he'll make the Muggles and Muggleborns slaves to his reign of terror. Hermione,
here, is one of the first ever to have the honor. Yes, Harry, I was there looking down on you in
the fortress as you struggled to fight to remove your guilt about causing her supposed death.
Isn't it amazing we were mere feet from each other and you didn't know at all? Ah, the joys
of being a masked Death Eater!”

Most of the Death Eaters around laughed in agreement.

“We later learned she turned out alive after all,” Seymour said. “She was then the one other
choice for recruitment to help us abduct you. But alas, things went wrong with our plans initially.
You foiled our attempt to enlist the help of your other friend Ron back in his family's house.
Remember the little scuffle you had with our people that night?”

Harry thought about it. The memories of that dangerous night, the incident back in the Burrow
when Death Eaters had attacked them, came flooding back in his mind. Harry knew for a fact that the
Death Eaters were after Ron that night at the Burrow. Dumbledore had mentioned that Voldemort might
have tried to hurt the people closest to him. He had saved Ron from whatever the Death Eaters
wanted to do with him then (he thought they were going to kill him), and Hermione…

Harry's heart sank. He looked at Hermione while he thought about it even more deeply. Harry
did prevent the Death Eaters from reaching Ron during their last night in the Burrow, but it was
possible the Death Eaters had gotten to her first back at the Granger household before they had
thought of evacuating her! They might have done something horrific to her then and Harry felt
tremendous regret that he failed to protect her that night.

“*What did you monsters do to her that night?!?*” Harry yelled furiously, glaring at
Seymour.

Seymour cackled with glee. “I see you figured it out. We went into her room, woke her up, and
gave her a little present from the Dark Lord.”

“What are you talking about?” he breathed.

“Unfortunately, it's a well kept secret, the very thing we gave to her,” Seymour sighed,
mocking disappointment. “Only the Dark Lord and the Death Eaters know of it and you don't need
to know - not even if you're sure to die in the hands of the Dark Lord after this. But it's
safe for me to say it causes us to control the minds of our victims freely and they will obey
everything we tell them to do. I'll just leave you guessing right there.”

“You did the Imperius Curse on her!!!” Harry shouted.

Seymour shook his head, laughing. He was fully enjoying the act of tormenting Harry. “That would
be difficult to do, keeping her under the influence of the curse constantly with the danger of
losing control of her out of our sight, so rest assured we didn't use the Imperius Curse on
her. Besides, it might be obsolete now. We have a weapon that's more effective than the
Imperius Curse. She did put up a good fight at first, but she was no match for us and succumbed to
the power of the serum…”

“*The serum?*” Harry repeated. Seymour suddenly looked furious with himself for letting
that slip out of him. “You gave her a serum! How?”

Burton had joined in the conversation. “We injected here with it, huh, didn't we boss?” he
said, guffawing hysterically.

“Shut up, you fool!” Seymour barked at him. Burton flinched, and fell back in silence.
“That's not true!”

But for Harry it made some sense. He remembered Hermione grimacing in pain as she stretched her
arm when they talked through the fireplace by floo powder. It might have been caused by the serum
injected through there. Harry didn't know why he ignored that sign - he should have taken a
look at it.

“Enough of this worthless talking!” Seymour shouted, looking red in the face. “He knows too much
already! Where's the bloody portal??? It's bloody late!”

Harry ignored what Seymour had said and took another look at Hermione. With Seymour's slip
of the tongue Harry now knew she wasn't acting in her own accord. At first he was relieved what
he thought about her earlier wasn't entirely true - that she had helped the Death Eaters do all
these things against him *willingly*. Then his feeling of relief was quickly replaced with
sadness when he thought about what Hermione might have gone through that night in her house. The
very thought that gave him the worst feeling was that he never knew about what happened to Hermione
- she was in trouble all the time and he didn't do anything at all to help her. It was like
being struck by a burglar at night who took his time to steal everything you had while you were
sleeping. They stole Hermione from him, from Ron, and from everybody who loved her. They
successfully had kept their possession of her in total secret.

Harry now felt intense fury against Seymour and his gang growing from deep inside him that he
would erupt at any moment. Seymour said it himself in front of his face - they had invaded
Hermione's home, went into her room while she was sleeping, and injected her with a serum that
allowed them to order her around as they pleased. What they did was totally unforgivable. *They
were going to pay for hurting her.* He didn't think of anything else but to kill Seymour
with his bare hands. Harry didn't notice it but he had walked a step closer to Seymour - he
didn't feel himself shaking and his teeth gritted as he stared on at him. Because of his anger
he didn't know his hands were already extended to reach Seymour's neck to break it.

“Immobulus!!!” Hermione bellowed, after she saw Harry starting to lunge at Seymour. Harry
stopped dead on his tracks, his body went rigid from the neck down, and he lost his balance, making
him fall on to the snow.

Seymour cackled with laughter. “Thank you, Hermione. That'll tell Harry that we're not
playing games,” he said. “He knows too much already, but luckily his memory will die with him. The
portal will be upon us soon. For the meantime, we need to secure our prisoner for the wonderful
trip ahead. You have the honor, my dear…”

Hermione conjured some ropes to bind Harry around his torso. She went over to him, knelt down
beside him, and lifted his chin with a finger to look up at her. “Make a brave face, Harry,” she
said. “You wouldn't want to look like a scared puppy in front of Lord Voldemort…”

“Hermione, please…let me go…” he implored her. “You're under his spell - you can fight
it!”

“You can't do anything about it anymore, Harry,” Seymour said impatiently, hearing what
Harry told Hermione. “The serum is permanent - there's no way back for Hermione but to serve
the Dark Lord. There's no turning back once you have it running along in your veins.”

“That's a lie!” Harry spat at Seymour, and it only made the Death Eater laugh again.

“Have it your way, then.” Seymour looked around, his smile vanishing. He seemed to have lost
interest enjoying the initial triumph of finally having Harry ready for Voldemort. He instead
looked increasingly apprehensive.

“The portal's taking so bloody long!” Seymour said, walking a few steps toward the direction
of Hogsmeade and gazed at the visible structures peeking out of the forest. “I shouldn't have
relieved the dogs yet…”

“See, I told you, Boss,” Burton started, but Seymour lunged at him in sudden fury. He became
wild and choked Burton with his bare hands. Some Death Eaters intervened and broke them away.

“How dare you challenge me in front of everyone, Burton!” he shrieked, shaking violently. “You
shut up! You shut up! Make Potter stand up while we wait for the portal! Don't you let him go
this time!”

Shaking out of fear, Burton obeyed Seymour's order, strode towards Harry, and lifted him to
make him stand upright. Then they waited. Harry attempted to talk Hermione out of her spell again,
but Burton punched Harry's stomach, venting his own anger at him. Harry wheezed out of breath
and fell down on his knees on the snow. “No talking, Potter,” Burton growled.

A little later a strong wind blew and the trees swayed - Seymour's eyes went wide with
relief. Harry surmised this was what they were waiting for. Sure enough a red-violet anomaly in
midair appeared at the center of the clearing and it hovered down toward the ground. Soon it turned
into a shimmering watery portal. Harry could see an image at the center of it - that of a gloomy
grey interior of an old castle. He breathed. It was most likely a part of Xanthius, ready to
receive him at the other side. It was only more than a month that he was in it. He was lucky that
time he had escaped it with Ron and Ginny with Hermione's help. It was completely ironic that
it was now Hermione who'd bring him back to the fortress again.

“Wait till it turns misty white and it'll be safe for us to cross,” Seymour reminded
everybody. While they waited still, they heard a twang echoing around the forest. Harry thought it
was part of the portal reaching its most potent point, but suddenly the Death Eaters around him
muttered words in panic. Just a few yards away from the group, Seymour had slumped on the ground
and he looked dead. Unfortunately for Harry, he saw him breathing.

It took a few seconds for everyone to make out what was probably happening. One of the Death
Eaters had crashed next on the snow like Seymour.

“Take cover!” one of the Death Eaters shouted and they scattered. Someone or something was
attacking them from the forest. But who?

A couple more Death Eaters dropped out of action, the rest exchanged curses against the unknown
attacker. Burton and Hermione didn't leave Harry though they got ready to fight off the
assailant if ever they were the ones left. Another Death Eater fell - they were vulnerable at the
center of the clearing while they were being hit from the safety of the trees.

Seymour jolted out to his senses, still laying chest down on the snow, and looked around for
Burton. “The Portal is ready! Get in with Potter and the Mudblood and leave us!”

Harry would have wanted to kick Burton's groin to escape as the Death Eater handled him
again to push him towards the portal but Hermione's charm still made his muscles stiff.
Hermione followed right behind them. The commotion went on wildly while they approached the waiting
portal. Harry looked back as he was dragged nearer to it and he could see only one active Death
Eater desperately fighting off their unseen enemy. He had been hit at last and there was no one
standing left. Harry saw movement out of the trees, and he could recognize the person who was
running towards them with his wand out. It was Horace Whipple and it looked like he was trying to
prevent Harry from crossing the portal…just a few seconds later Ron and the Weasley twins had
emerged out of the trees.

“Hurry up!” Burton yelled, literally throwing Harry inside the portal. Unlike portkeys with all
its tugging and pulling, the trip to the other side didn't feel uncomfortable at all for Harry.
Shortly he was in a dank room populated by more Death Eaters. He fell down on the damp floor
stiffly and painfully. The awaiting Death Eaters held him; ignoring his howls of pain, they dragged
him a few feet on the floor away from the portal and settling him at a far corner. Hermione had
followed in next; Burton came in a couple of seconds later looking extremely alarmed.

“Cut the portal! Cut the portal!” Burton shouted. Harry saw Whipple and Ron through it. They
were still at the other side of the gateway, sprinting towards them in an apparent bid to get in
before it disappeared. Unfortunately they had not. Harry's view of the snowy grounds near
Hogsmeade had vanished - the portal had closed. Harry felt disappointed and, strangely, relieved
that Ron hadn't made it to run after for him. If Ron had succeeded in reaching the portal, he
would have been in so much trouble like him and he didn't want that to happen.

Harry looked around the room, squinting as his eyes adjusted to the sudden change of light. He
knew he was definitely back in Xanthius. He had been in this room before, he thought. It was the
room just at the end of the prison cell wing. Harry had the bad feeling if Voldemort didn't
want to murder him at once this was probably the only place he'd be in for the rest of his life
to rot.

“What happened?” Lucius Malfoy said as he entered the room. Harry snapped his gaze towards the
white haired father of his Hogwarts enemy, Draco. It wasn't at all surprising to know he was
here since Harry *knew* he was a Death Eater, but the most striking fact was that he
didn't wear his mask on. It was the first real confirmation for Harry that Lucius was
*indeed* a Death Eater.

“I warned Seymour not to release the dogs when Potter was not secured yet, sir, but he refused
to heed me,” Burton replied nervously at him.

“That arrogant imbecile!” Lucius roared. “He almost bungled the plan again, that stupid fool!
Where is he now?”

“Someone attacked us while we waited for the portal - he was the first to go down. Out of a
dozen Death Eaters back there, I'm the only one who managed to escape with Potter and the
Mudblood.”

“Serves him right,” Lucius grunted. He looked around the room. His eyes found Hermione who was
standing at an opposite corner of Harry, staring ahead blankly.

“Ah, so this is Seymour's little slave,” he said, smiling. “You did an excellent job,
Granger, I heard. Without your help, we wouldn't have gone this far. Too bad you're a
Mudblood.” The Death Eaters laughed. He approached her slowly.

“Don't you dare lay a hand on her!” Harry yelled. Lucius returned his gaze at him, and he
was very pleased at the sight of Harry helplessly immobile down on the floor at the other
corner.

“Oh, I'm sorry I didn't give you my immediate attention, Potter,” he sneered.
“Nevertheless, I welcome you back again to my Master's dark abode. Oh, about your friend,
don't you worry. I'd never imagine smearing my sterile hands with the filth of this
Mudblood, but I don't deny she was a very important asset on our mission to bring you back to
Xanthius for the Dark Lord. Unfortunately for us we had no choice by to settle for her when our
primary choice was Arthur Weasley's youngest son. It was against our principles using Hermione
Granger, but we had to make extreme sacrifices and that is to rely on the services of a Mudblood
like her. I'm sure the Dark Lord won't approve of it, but he will be happy he'll have
you again just the same.”

Lucius laughed heartily and walked nearer to his Death Eaters. “I'm so happy our mission is
over, my faithful people,” he went on, “we have no reason to fear the wrath of the Dark Lord
anymore. The aborted attempt at the Quidditch game seemed to be the death of the operation at
first, but thanks to my never-say-die attitude, we have pulled through and succeeded. Let us
rejoice!”

The Death Eaters cheered loudly and clapped their hands in self applause.

“What amazes me so, Potter,” Lucius said, turning back to Harry, “is that this Mudblood had
helped the Death Eaters in Hogwarts all along to ensure you're recaptured and you still show
loyalty towards her - was she your best friend before?”

“Yes, and she'll always be, Malfoy!” Harry answered angrily. “I know she'd been injected
with some sort of serum to be controlled by your Death Eaters - she doesn't know what she's
doing!”

“How did you know about that?” Lucius said at Harry, frowning.

“Your - *faithful servant* - Seymour had the slip of the tongue - so did Burton here! They
told me what they did to Hermione…”

Lucius roared in anger and turned towards Burton. “Is this true, Burton?!?” he yelled.

Burton dropped the smile on his face and shook his head fearfully, and denied what Harry had
told him. “No, sir, never have I told him anything about the serum - it was Master Seymour,
sir!”

“You bloody incompetent fools! No one outside our circle must know about the serum!!! Did
Seymour die at the other side?”

“I-I'm afraid he'd been arrested by Whipple along with our other people…sir. He was
totally defenseless when I left him,” Burton whimpered.

Lucius kicked him on his stomach in fury, sending him gasping for air on the floor. Lucius then
went into a mad tantrum (the Death Eaters around him all cowered in fear). “Do you realize
what'll happen when the Dark Lord will know about this?!?” he roared. “I want you to swear, all
of you, not to even mention to him the secret may be out, is that understood? *Is that
understood?*”

All the Death Eaters in the room nodded their head quickly, mumbling incoherently under their
masks.

“I'll tell Voldemort when I see him,” Harry said mischievously, making the room fall into
silence.

After flinching upon hearing his own master's name, Lucius snapped back, “Don't you
dare, Potter! Or I'll kill the Mudblood in a heartbeat!”

Harry's smirk flickered. It was Lucius' turn to simper again.

“I can still see your weakness now,” Lucius pressed on. “You care - you still care for this
Mudblood, don't you?”

“We're as good as dead anyway, Malfoy,” Harry answered to try to throw off the subject
though deep inside him he didn't want this to happen to Hermione. She didn't deserve to die
in the hands of their enemies.

“Don't fret, you'll have your chance soon enough. The Dark Lord will make sure of it
this time. He has something hideous in store for you.” Lucius laughed and turned to his Death
Eaters. “He doesn't want what happened the last time to happen again - he won't offer you
alternatives any more but death. Then he will decide on what to do your Mudblood friend.”

He glanced at Hermione sadly again - she was standing there like a robot with no real inkling of
what was going on around her. Harry was scared to think of what might happen to her in the hands of
Voldemort and his Death Eaters after he'd die as Lucius had promised. He must try to give her
the chance to escape before he's gone, he thought. But how? They were both alone now,
surrounded by their murderous enemies. Someone coming to rescue them looked impossible now. Nobody
knew the location of Xanthius at all.

“Throw Potter into a cell whilst we wait for the Dark Lord to return to Xanthius,” Lucius
ordered one of his Death Eaters.

The Death Eater obeyed as he was told, grabbed Harry by the arms, dragged him through an open
cell, and slammed the door. “What shall we do with the Mudblood, sir?” he asked.

Lucius moved over to the front of Hermione and looked at her. “Stand guard for Harry Potter, my
dear,” he told her, smirking. “Curse him if he tries to escape, understood, Mudblood?”

“By your command,” she replied. Lucius and Death Eaters were taking in pleasure calling her by
the name “Mudblood” as they pleased.

“Come, we have more work to do,” a satisfied Lucius said to his Death Eaters. Before he went out
with everybody, he walked back in front of Harry's cell door to look at him again. Harry was
now lying on his side at the dirt floor, breathing heavily, but staring back at Lucius
determinedly. “We'll be back for you very soon, Potter. For the meantime, I leave you both
alone. Don't try to talk her out of her spell - you'd spend a hundred lifetimes just doing
it and all your efforts won't give a dent on the effects of the serum. ”

Harry spat at him, hitting him on his face. Lucius looked furious at first when he wiped
Harry's spit from his face and pulled out his wand to curse him. Harry didn't flinch, and
they both stared at each other hotly for a moment. Lucius, however, decided not to pursue it,
turned on his heel, and slammed the door of the dungeon behind him.

Harry was now alone with Hermione. His locomotor function, which was earlier impeded by the
Hermione's Immobulus Curse, was now slowly going back to normal as the curse's effects
started to disappear, although it was still painful for him to move his whole body. He fought the
stinging sensation of moving his stiff muscles just to do a simple thing as to try to sit up and
rest his back against the wall. For the longest time, he succeeded but he swore he wouldn't try
to move again until the curse's effect was fully gone. Panting and grimacing in pain, he turned
his head slowly to look at Hermione. He could see her standing statuesquely in front of his cell
door at the opposite wall. For an hour he stared at her silently (Hermione didn't seem to get
tired of standing still for a long time).

Harry couldn't imagine what hell Hermione might be going through all the time. She was doing
everything what the Death Eaters ordered her against her will - she might be crying out from inside
right now to break out of her bondage. Harry finally wept for her. Here he was, sitting down on the
floor for more than hour fighting the severe physical pain he suffered constantly, not having any
real clue on how to help Hermione.

He fought off the next wave of tears. Maybe, just maybe, he could talk to her and his words and
her heart will do the listening, he thought. Maybe if he tried hard enough it'll break the
spell for her. Lucius had told him that he'd just be wasting time talking her out of the
serum's spell, but Harry hoped he was only lying to discourage him from attempting to do so. He
knew he couldn't permit himself not to try at all. He had to. He could talk on to her forever
and die in the process. It didn't matter to him now. He just had to.

“Hermione,” he said softly, slow tears streaming down on his face. “I know you're
listening…deep inside I know you're there. I…I don't blame you one bit for bringing me here
- not at all. I'm very sorry if I never knew they had you already. I-I'm very sorry if I
wasn't there to defend from the Death Eaters in your house that night. Perhaps if I
should've insisted more with you to stay with us at the Burrow this wouldn't've
happened. I should've read the signs and I could've asked for help from somebody…” Harry
paused. He only had started to talk to her, but it hurt him intensely watching Hermione staring on
blankly ahead, ignoring him like a stranger that it was hard to keep talking. But he knew he had to
die trying. He owed it to her.

Harry sighed and tried to start all over again. “Remember the time when you entered our
compartment in the train in our first year?” he said, staring at the ceiling above him. “That was
probably the best thing that ever happened in my life: I met you. Of course, I was eleven then and
I thought girls were annoying,” he laughed softly, wiping his tears, “but I can't deny after
many years we've been together - and all the things we went through together - that…that I was
blessed for having you as my very good friend and companion. I can't imagine what my life
would've become without you.

“I could never forget the feeling I had during the time you got petrified by that basilisk…the
time you fell at the lake because of the Dementors…the time you looked as if you were drowning
under the lake…the time the Oarling almost possessed you…remember that? The time I thought I lost
you forever with the Dragon that turned out to be Norbert…the time you had the accident in
class…the time you had the mysterious fever…each time you fell over when you lost part of your
memory. My feeling was always the same; I dreaded every one of them - you were hurting each time. I
couldn't stand to see you suffering - It just rips my heart out. I always wanted you to be
happy, to feel no pain at all.” Harry gazed at her again.

“Right now, while you're standing there, I know you're hurting deep inside - even if you
might not be aware of it, you're in a lot of pain. If you can hear me, Hermione - I know you
can hear me…please fight the spell. You must resist it! I know you're strong. Listen, if…I
mean, *when* you break free of it, I want you to escape. Voldemort will not spare your life.
You hear me? Forget about me - it's more important if you'd stay alive than me…Voldemort
will not go out of his way to seek you out unlike me. He won't care for what will happen to
you. What he only wants is me, so escape if you can when you break free. You will break free, I
know it. I…I have to tell you this before I'd pass away…please hear me…please hear me with your
heart…*I love you*. I really do! I know you love me, too…you didn't tell me but I know you
do. Your eyes showed it back in Hogsmeade…” Harry closed his eyes again and new tears ran down his
face. It hurt him deep inside so much to reflect on Hermione back in Hogsmeade holding both his
hands and looking very happy in front of him after he asked her to be his girlfriend. It was one,
if not the most wonderful moment of his life robbed again by Voldemort and his henchmen. Now she
wasn't totally to herself, being ordered around by very evil people. A new wave of fury coursed
from him.

He opened his eyes again to see Hermione blurrily through his unwiped tears, moving inches
closer towards her as he could. “Please fight the spell!” He growled. “Fight the spell so may
escape and live on…”

“Harry,” Hermione spoke at last, and Harry's heart skipped a beat. He stood up and limped
towards the cell door, grasping the bars while he looked happily at Hermione, heartened by his
apparent progress. He actually didn't know where his speech was going, but it might have done
something very positive that Hermione had spoken. She now might be already breaking off the
surface, and Harry felt he needed to keep talking to her and he hoped by doing so she'll really
regain herself this time. With just a little help from him, maybe he could finally succeed.

“You're doing great, Hermione,” he said encouragingly. “Fight the spell - you can do it!
Think of all the people who love you - especially me, cheering you on…we want you back…be strong!
Be…”

“Harry,” she repeated, still standing like a statue.

“Yes?”

Hermione gazed at him, turning her head towards him like a living doll. “Shut up and go to
sleep,” she told him dispassionately.

Harry was taken aback by Hermione's uncaring statement and he scowled. Lucius might have
been telling him the truth, but he couldn't think about it further. He howled in intense pain
as his scar on his forehead burned fiercely. He slid down the bars of his cell door towards the
floor. He hanged on to the cross bars while the pain lingered on for more than a minute, and he
strangely felt very pleased with something at once.

When the pain began to ebb away and he could think again, Harry had understood what this might
have meant. Voldemort was already in Xanthius, and the Dark Lord had learned just now that he,
Harry, was already here for him. It was only a matter of time when he'd meet him face to face
again.

It took a few more minutes when Harry heard the main door to the prison cells open, and several
Death Eaters strode towards him. Harry stood up from his spot. The effects of Hermione's curse
were already gone, and he could freely move all his muscles without resistance and pain.

“The Dark Lord demands your presence now, Potter,” one of them said. Harry just looked at him in
silence.

His cell door swung open; the Death Eaters didn't bind him this time, they just secured him
by pointing their wands at him.

“Bring the Mudblood along for the meeting,” said the Death Eater to the other closest to
him.

Harry was led forward, constantly being prodded by the Death Eater's wand tip. He glanced
towards Hermione, and he saw that she walked casually just a few feet behind him. Harry's
eyebrows furrowed. He didn't want to know what will happen to her if Voldemort killed him
first, and he didn't want her to be murdered by him either. Harry wasn't worried for
himself but for Hermione now. He could run and bring her along if he wanted to, but he knew it was
stupid to do so for now - she was still possessed by the Death Eaters and she'd only stop him
on his tracks. Only, if only she regained total control of herself maybe there was a chance to save
her.

The path they took was familiar for Harry as they walked further. He could still remember
vividly the hallway they were in now when he, Ron, and Ginny were forced forward once before. This
was the exact path towards Voldemort's throne room. Harry straightened himself upright. He
refused to look frail even for once in front of Voldemort. He made it a point to face him with
dignity until death. He didn't want him to enjoy too much seeing him helplessly resigned to his
fate. Soon, they were facing the large oak doors leading to the throne room, and it opened.

The last time Harry saw this room was only a couple of months ago, and it was full of debris of
the stone ceiling that fell to the floor, which the former Hogwarts Headboy and aspiring Death
Eater Jack Chadron had caused to give Harry, Ron, and Ginny the chance to escape from Voldemort.
Now, it was golden new.

At the end of the large hall that was Voldemort's throne platform was the Dark Lord himself.
He stood in front of a dozen hooded figures bowed down low the floor, facing him. Several other
Death Eaters also stood in a straight line at both sides of his throne. There were other people in
the room, too - about more than ten of them, mostly women. Harry didn't know who they were but
they didn't look like Death Eaters and they stood motionless at an angle facing the throne.

As Harry was led nearer to the throne platform, Voldemort roared and killed one of the Death
Eaters bowed down at his feet with a Killing Curse. Harry didn't know why he did that, but
Voldemort looked very angry with something. The eleven remaining Death Eaters shook and inched
their way farther from him out of fear of being next.

“That will be the fate of the servant who fails me!” he growled. “All of you have let the
important prisoners escape!!! Because of your stupidity I'm left with only a meager supply of
the serum! Go down to the dungeons to recapture them, or you suffer the same fate as your worthless
colleague!”

“B-But, my Lord,” said one of the Death Eaters, “Several of my men have died trying to break
through the dungeons! The prisoners have turned themselves into guerrillas, and they're quite
effective!”

Bright green light made by Voldemort flashed towards him, snuffing out his life in an instant.
The ten Death Eaters who were left alive broke down on the floor and wailed in trepidation.

Harry didn't know what they were up to, but from what he had heard, they had prisoners who
had managed to escape and where holding out somewhere in the dungeons.

“Die trying, or you die in the hands of your Dark Lord!” Voldemort shouted. “I demand that
you'll show me success within three hours, or else! Cassius Wallace, assign more Death Eaters
to help these fools!”

He waved his wand to the side door, and the Death Eaters scurried off towards it like wet
kittens. Wallace herded them and led the way to the door. However, he looked particularly
interested of Harry and Hermione - he snatched glances at them as he stepped out of the throne room
with the Death Eaters.

Voldemort then turned his attention to Harry just as he went near enough of him.

“Welcome back, Harry Potter,” he sneered. “I haven't seen you in two months but I'm glad
you dropped by in this special day of mine.”

Lucius laughed, and was followed by the rest of the Death Eaters present in the throne room.

“Thank you, my servants. That was indeed funny. As I was saying, Harry, you're just in time
for what will become a very glorious event in the history of wizardry. Do you want to know what it
is?”

Harry didn't say anything, and stared at Voldemort determinedly with gritted teeth.

“Very well, as I see you - pleading - to know what I'm referring to, take a look behind
you…it is time to announce to the whole wizard world the return of Lord Voldemort.” Voldemort
pointed his wand at Harry and forced him to turn around.

“Witness the terror that is Xanthius and Lord Voldemort, Harry!” he proclaimed.

At the center of the throne room appeared a window showing a snowy and pristine Scottish
landscape. Soon, however, the sky around it gradually blackened - dark clouds with streaks of
lightning enveloped the white sky rendering the landscape with a terrifying and gloomy hue. On top
of the horizon emerged a large structure from the ground up, quaking the ground around it, and
Harry felt the tremor under his feet.

Harry recognized the structure in the window as the Xanthius. He could never mistake the tallest
tower that was the most prominent feature of the fortress. He had seen it before, and he had even
been on top of it before. As soon as the fortress had settled on top of a high mountain, the view
in the window shifted next to panic stricken wizards and witches - Harry didn't know who these
people were, but they could see Xanthius from where they were. The wizards and witches were
screaming and pointing towards what Harry knew was the fortress. They were running away, trying to
make more distance from it but that act probably never made any difference. Voldemort had made
known his existence for all to see. Xanthius, the Dark Fortress, has started to cast its long
shadow on the wizard world.

The next view was of Hogwarts at the foreground and with Xanthius at a distance. There was
activity on the grounds of the school, Harry had noticed. All the students and teachers were back
from Hogsmeade and have gone out of the castle to take a look of the Dark Fortress far away in the
horizon. It was a symbolic view of what was to come: a preview of the new War. Voldemort's
Death Eaters cheered.

“Everywhere in Britain can see the dark clouds of Xanthius however far a place it may be,”
Voldemort said with pleasure. “They now know that I have returned. I have come back to power! I
have gathered all my forces - the dark forces in the wizard world. The vampires, the giants, the
imps, the Oarlings, Werewolves and all the creatures you can think of. They have pledged support to
my dream of wizard world domination! Anyone who resists will die. Anyone who fights Lord Voldemort
will breathe their last. Tremble, all of you, in the wizard world. Shudder under the might of Lord
Voldemort!”

Voldemort's laugh echoed around the throne room, and possibly it had emanated throughout the
wizard world.

Lucius moved forward. “Shall we now begin your reign of terror, my Lord?”

“Without further adieu, Lucius,” he replied. “All Death Eaters will now have no fear of
prosecution from the puny Ministry of Magic, let it be known. Power is now in our hands. The
Ministry of Magic shall now be the ones who'll cower in fear - they shall now be the ones
who'll hide from us!”

“Marvelous, my Lord,” Lucius laughed and began sending off some Death Eaters to begin
operations. “Our men will be overjoyed. Do you wish to supervise our first terror attacks?”

“I have all the time in the world now, Lucius,” Voldemort said confidently. “I will let you know
when I'll participate. You have done extremely well, and you will be rewarded for it. For the
meantime, I have unfinished business to take care of. Stay with me, Lucius.”

Harry turned around to face Voldemort again, knowing it was he who he was referring to.

“Isn't it wonderful, Harry,” Voldemort said, “that the last thing you'll ever remember
before you die would be the beginning of the fall of your allies and the rise of Lord
Voldemort?”

“If you want to kill me, get it over with Voldemort!” Harry shouted. “You don't want me -
escaping - again, do you?”

Voldemort laughed. “I don't see how you can, Harry. Escaping from me is impossible now. I
don't see you have any more hope for that, but it's very nice to know you're still
wishing to live longer after today. It makes it even more fun for us to see you fight for your life
than being merely resigned to your fate. I'll make sure you won't survive this day. This
calls for a celebration. Meanwhile, let's have some entertainment - where's the Mudblood
who helped brought Potter to us? Ah…”

Lucius beckoned Hermione to stand in front of Voldemort. She walked to the center and bowed in
front of him.

“I despise Mudbloods,” Voldemort said, “but with our secret weapon they do prove to be useful as
slaves. That is until they prove their usefulness to me and after that they will die. Look around
at your left, Harry…”

Harry gazed to his left where a few witches and wizards were standing stiffly.

“They're Mudbloods, too, like your pretty friend here. What's her name?”

Sensing that Harry didn't want to answer Voldemort, Lucius said, “Her name is Hermione
Granger - said to be the brightest witch in Potter's class, and perhaps of her age, my
Lord.”

“Thank you, Lucius,” Voldemort acknowledged. He then shook his head in disappointment. “What a
pity it is. For in the history of wizardry because of what the three other founding fathers of
Hogwarts' did - their ill-conceived policy of teaching magic to Mudbloods made Purebloods
lesser beings and looking lousy with what was supposed to be inherently theirs. Purebloods must
regain their rightful place in the magical arts, which was trampled on by a horde of Mudbloods. I
promise everyone I will build up a wizard world free of their dominance. I will seek and destroy
every Mudblood and Half Bloods in our society and lift all the Purebloods up. But for now, I will
use the Mudbloods. Yes, I will use them - the best of the Mudblood lot, and they will work for me
to purge their own kind until their skins are rubbed raw. Then they will die!”

The room rang with hysterical laughter from the Death Eaters.

“These, Harry,” Voldemort said, pointing at the witches and wizards on the side, “are among the
best of the Mudblood crop. Since you will die in a little while, It won't matter to tell you
they have been injected with my serum that will obey my every command - even if I order them to
kill themselves they will do it for me at once. As we speak, my scientists are working day in and
day out reproducing the serum. In a month I will have enough and even more to spare to inject
everyone with the serum. Even the spells and curses they have not learned, they will be able to
cast it.

“There is no cure for it. It's even better than the Imperius Curse! Once it runs in their
veins, it's permanent. The only thing they will wish for is death. Would you like to see a
demonstration?”

Harry stared at Voldemort.

“Hermione,” Voldemort said, “do the Cruciatus curse on your friend, Harry Potter.”

Hermione whipped around without question, pointed her wand at Harry, and bellowed,
“*Crucio!*”

Harry screamed in extreme pain with Hermione's curse and he fell down on the floor in an
instant.

“Longer! *Longer!*” Voldemort laughed. “Show him that you obey only to your Dark Lord!”

Harry didn't know how long he could take it. His scream echoed throughout the throne room
amid the laughter of the Death Eaters.

“Laugh along with us, Hermione!” Voldemort told her, and she obeyed. The sound of Hermione's
laughter was even more torturous for Harry than the curse itself. Hermione would never enjoy seeing
him in great pain, not even doing it on him.

“That's enough for now,” Voldemort said after a moment when Harry was almost on the brink of
death, and the pain stopped. Harry breathed heavily while he was still slumped on the cold stone
floor, barely recovering from the effects of the Cruciatus Curse.

“See, Harry?” Voldemort said. “See what our serum can do? We can rule the wizard world without
even muttering a single spell - but I know that will be boring for us. We'll sometimes do our
work ourselves. We do miss torturing anyone if we just leave all the work to our slaves. Which, I
think, I now have the appetite for a good round of cursing. The Dark Lord does need to have fun
once in a while.”

Lucius laughed at Voldemort's words knowingly. He walked towards Harry, knelt down on one
knee beside him, and forced Harry's head to watch what was about to happen.

Voldemort stepped down from his dais and said, “Now let's see how the best and brightest
Mudblood in Hogwarts could fare against Lord Voldemort, the Pureblood.

“*Vox Domini*!” Voldemort muttered, making sure Hermione could hear it.

“Yes, Mister Seymour, I…” Hermione said at first but paused when her view of the world had
abruptly changed. She looked confused while she looked around her. She saw Harry on the floor whose
head was being held by Lucius. Her eyes went round at the sight of it along with the row of Death
Eaters at the flanks and her breathing became choppy. “Harry…what's happening? Ugh…”

Hermione didn't understand why she couldn't control her body anymore. It seemed it was
turning around slowly on its own, even when she tried to counteract it. Soon she saw the most
ghastly face she had ever seen, her getting big, round and fearful at the sight of it. She
didn't know who it was she was looking at first, but she quickly remembered Harry describe the
same face she was seeing now at one point in time. Harry had told her then the face of Voldemort.
Realizing that it was the Dark Lord in front of her, she screamed.

“Hello, Hermione. Isn't it sweet to see the face of your master for the first time?”
Voldemort sneered at her.

“Y-you're Voldermort!” she said, her breathing irregular.

The Death Eaters flinched upon hearing their master's name, and Voldemort narrowed his eyes
on Hermione.

“*How dare you speak my name, Mudblood!*” he roared, sending Hermione back a step. “I am
Lord Voldemort, and my name brings dread to everyone! This Mudblood shows arrogance in front of me
by not showing fear in saying my name. You, Mudblood, will be taught the fear of Lord Voldemort.
You will now duel with me. Bow to me…”

Voldemort forced Hermione into a bow, which she couldn't resist.

Before Voldemort could release his control on her, Harry yelled, “Hermione, look out!”

Voldemort pounced. “*Crucio!*”

Hermione shrieked in intense agony. It was pain that she had never experienced before in her
life. It was pain for her that she wished she were dead. Harry screamed along with her, making
Lucius laugh at their torment. Hermione dropped her wand and soon she fell along with it on the
floor. Voldemort cut the curse in less than fifteen seconds but it was enough to leave her
breathing excruciatingly as she slumped on the floor, still suffering the lingering effects of
curse. The Death Eaters laughed along with Voldemort.

“Stand up, my dear,” Voldemort said to her. “You can be quicker than me.”

Hermione groaned in pain. She didn't want to face Voldemort further in fear of experiencing
the awful Cruciatus Curse again, but she knew she had no choice but to fight Voldemort and she had
no other way out. Grunting, she lifted herself up with her hands on the floor and crawled on all
fours towards her wand. Grasping it, she stood up shakily and focused on him, fighting the soreness
of her joints and muscles. Wand shaking, she pointed it to Voldemort. “Expel…”

“*Repulso*!” Voldemort muttered before she could say the last syllable of her spell. A jet
of red light whooshed out of Voldemort's wand and hit her squarely on the chest, sending her
backwards and back down on to the floor.

“Stop it! Stop it!” Harry yelled, but his pleas were only answered by more laughter. He shook
off Lucius' grip and gazed at Hermione, who looked spent already. Their eyes met, but she
didn't say anything at all. Hermione's breathing was choppy and uneven. She was shaking;
even though she had only suffered two curses from Voldemort, the look on her face drew signs of
inevitable defeat. Harry knew they were no match against Voldemort even if he and Hermione joined
forces to fight him. There were tears now streaming down on her cheeks, but yet she looked
determined to fight on, refusing to give up so easily.

She managed to stand up again this time, but Voldemort didn't give her any more chance to
posture. “*Expelliarmus*!” Voldemort bellowed, and Hermione was stripped of her wand. Hermione
stood defenseless; Voldemort walked closer towards her casually and gave her another round of the
Cruciatus Curse. This spell lasted for almost a minute that Hermione was screaming her voice
hoarse. Harry cried out for her, but he could do nothing to help her.

“Pathetic performance from the so-called brightest witch,” Voldemort sneered as he let go of the
curse. “Is this what Hogwarts has to offer? This proves Mudbloods don't deserve to study
magic.”

Lucius enjoyed hearing Voldemort's last comment.

Voldemort left Hermione sprawled on the cold floor to catch her almost non-existent breathing,
and walking back to his platform. She wasn't moving at all due to intense pain she agonized
with that almost rendered her immobile.

A few Death Eaters moved to force her to stand up, but Voldemort stopped them. “Leave her to
savor the soothing effects of my curse,” he said. “She will return to our ranks later - after we
watch Harry Potter die under Nagini. Harry Potter has lived long enough in my presence.”

Harry was lifted up on his feet, dragged to the center of the throne room, and left alone there.
Death Eaters then surrounded him in a wide rectangular pattern with Voldemort joining them and
positioning himself in the head of the rectangle. He looked around for Hermione. She was still down
on the floor, just behind the wall of Death Eaters. She made every effort to lift her head up to
look back at Harry; her face showed real sadness and worry for him. Her mouth moved, muttering his
name - she slowly extended her hand towards him, even though the distance between them made it
impossible for her to reach him.

“Hermione…” Harry said softly under his breath and he sadly reached his hand for her in midair -
one of the Death Eaters forced Harry's hand down with magic.

“I have had enough of your exploits, Harry Potter,” he said. “I have lost interest in your death
in my own hands. I have prepared a better way for you to die. After this, I shall announce to the
wizard world that the Boy Who Lived is dead and is being digested in the stomach of my faithful
pet, Nagini. The last symbol of the wizard world of Lord Voldemort's defeat will cease to
exist.”

Knowing what he was in for this time, Harry frantically looked for a way out and backed up a bit
but quite a few Death Eaters controlled his footing and made him walk back to the center. The floor
beneath him opened quickly in half like a trapdoor, and he fell more than twenty feet down to the
underground below. If the ground wasn't soft and a little soggy he would've broken his
legs. He stood back up with difficulty due to the muddy ground on which he stood and he looked up
at the Death Eaters looking back down at him. Then he heard hissing behind him. He turned around
slowly, and there was Nagini crawling out of his hole from the wall, his sharp fangs glinting
menacingly in the gloomy pit.

The Death Eaters laughed heartily again, enjoying the spectacle down at the pit. Harry backed up
further while Nagini advanced slowly towards him. The snake hissed once more and got ready to
pounce on his delicious prey. Harry glanced around to look for somewhere to escape, but only saw
four dirt walls and nothing to hide in. There was nothing to use for cover and to fight the giant
snake. Without his wand, Harry was defenseless. His endurance was the only thing that stood between
him and inevitable death.

-o0o-

Chapter 18 coming soon.

*Author's notes: Sorry for giving you another cliffhanger, if you call it that. But I have
to end the chapter here because we'd be having a 15,000-word chapter if I wrote on. (grin).
There's still a lot to write after the last word of this chapter and would be a problem to find
a good place to stop for the next chapter. So please bear with me, and yeah, you can call me
“evil”. (laughing like Voldemort).*

*I know! I gave Harry and Hermione too much suffering in this chapter. Sometimes when I wrote
this chapter, I felt real bad for my favorite heroes. Anyway it's how the story
goes…(shrug).*

*As always, thanks for reading this story. I hope you, uhm…enjoyed it. Please kindly leave
comments and views of this chapter by leaving a review. Criticism is welcome, too. Thanks in
advance!*

*You may want to check on top of this chapter from time to time. I'll leave a message when
I think I'll post the next chapter.*

-->



19. The Underground
-------------------



**Update** **December 5, 2004****: I'm asking for a little more time to finish the
19****th** **chapter. As of the moment I'm not quite happy how it's
turning out** **(****aside from juggling time with work****)** **- it's proving to
be a little more difficult to write than I've imagined** **since it will most likely contain
the climax of the story (I'm working hard not to disappoint)****. I'll be redoing some
entries before moving on further** **as** **I explore for some better ideas while sticking
closely to the general outline. The next chapter may be significantly longer than average and I
might choose to go beyond the 9000-10,000 word cap if circumstances warrant****.** **I'll
make my best effort to finish #19 asap!** **A****s always****, I thank you for your
cont****inued interest with this story!**

**Announcement: due to some serious problems with Fanfiction.net (what else is new?) and some
requests from readers, the prequel of Shadow of the Dark Fortress Part 1 and 2 titled** **“The
Auror and the Oarling”** **will be posted in Portkey in its entirety. You might want to check it
out while waiting for Chapter 19. Thanks!**

*Author's note**: Sorry about the delay, folks! Been very busy with work, and the
only time I found to do this chapter was late at night* *even* *when my brain was
buzzing.* *But I didn't want to keep you waiting.* *I hope that* *it*
*didn't affect the composition of this chapter negatively**. P**lease let me*
*know* *what you think**.*

*Of course, thanks* *very much* *to* *SEK19005**, PottersPrincess, and
L**ady**B**lazey* *for their morale boosting comments! I'm glad you find
the story interesting!*

*Okay,* *now,* *let's roll the film!* *Lights off please…*

**Chapter 18**

**The Underground**

Harry watched Nagini slither threateningly closer to him at the pit, its eyes brightened by the
sight of his new prey. The Death Eaters on the upper floor above him were extremely amused at the
show. Harry didn't know if he was fast enough to evade the snake's deadly strike - he
didn't even know how he could survive this encounter at all. The only thing he hoped for was to
find a way to get out of this pit and to tire Nagini into frustration that it would just leave him
alone, but Harry knew that was wishful thinking to the max. Unless help arrived soon, he was a
goner.

Harry had backed himself up on the wall behind him and Nagini struck instantly! Harry had fast
reflexes - he made himself fall down sideward to the floor to dodge Nagini just in time his fangs
had come within mere inches on him. The snake hissed in pain as its nose smacked the dirt wall
forcefully on top of Harry - it backed up and straightened itself high to prepare for another
strike.

Harry had crawled away from Nagini and he ran behind his back as far away as he can towards the
opposite wall where the snake's hole was. Looking back at it for a second, Harry considered
getting in but quickly decided against because he'd be definitely fenced in. He knew the pit
was the best place to dodge the snake because it was a significantly larger area with more room to
maneuver.

He was only a couple of minutes into the encounter and Harry had started to pant - he
determinedly looked on at the snake to predict when he'd strike next, not daring to allow
himself get off guard. The Death Eaters above laughed with extreme enjoyment.

“This has got to be a new record, my Lord,” Lucius guffawed. “Potter had outlived every known
dinner of Nagini for more than twenty seconds!”

“We'll see if he'll live another twenty, Lucius,” Voldemort sneered. “Whatever he does,
he's doomed.”

Harry didn't care to listen in on their conversation - he was too busy anticipating
Nagini's next move. His life depended on this. He had backed himself another time at a wall and
he prepared himself for another strike from the snake, but it didn't come as fast as he
expected.

Knowing that striking Harry while he was backed against the wall would hurt again, Nigini
feinted and Harry fell for it. Harry had fallen on the ground in purpose to dodge another blow, but
as he was falling the snake stopped halfway and waited for Harry to get into his most vulnerable
before hitting him. When Harry landed on the ground Nagini positioned for another strike!
Fortunately Harry saw his mistake immediately that he used his remaining momentum to do a forward
roll to move further away. Nagini pounded the floor where Harry's foot was a split second
earlier, sending dirt flying around. Harry's hair literally stood on end when he felt how close
Nagini had caught him.

“Whoa!” laughed some of the Death Eaters and they clapped their hands with the spectacle.

“Impressive,” Voldemort muttered. “But he won't last long…”

Harry had narrowly escaped again, running behind the snake to prepare himself for another blow.
His breath was getting heavier, now gradually affecting his concentration in a negative way. Nagini
hissed with growing frustration - he slithered slowly to advance again with his eyes locked on his
prey below. Harry knew he was running out of moves - his legs were getting tired, a stitch was
growing at his side, his vision getting more blurry, and his endurance fading. One wrong move in
his part and it will be over for him.

Nagini didn't wait for Harry to back up to the wall again and swooped down on him. Harry was
startled that he fell to the ground on his back involuntarily and this time one of Nagini's
fangs had ripped a hole on his robe! As Nagini pulled back, Harry was pulled with him. Fighting to
free himself from being bitten further, Harry smacked Nagini with his fists, kicking as much as he
could. First Nagini didn't feel any pain, but when Harry's foot had hit one of his eyes he
flailed back in pain, throwing Harry to the air and towards the center of the pit solidly, ripping
a long segment of his robes. Harry landed on the ground in pain and he felt as if he had broken all
the bones in his body. He tried to stand up, but the initial pain of being slammed on the floor was
too much for him to ignore. At the same time, Nagini was preoccupied with his own painful eyes at
the other end of the pit - he slithered violently around to try to shake off the agony.

Harry thought that was his last hurrah and Nagini wouldn't be as forgiving the next time.
Too hurt to move, but determined to live on longer even for just for a few more seconds and not
giving up a courageous fight, he crawled slowly towards the snake's hole. If he died today
right now, he didn't want to give the Death Eaters and Voldemort the pleasure to see how Nagini
consumed him.

Nagini, who had gone through his misery already, probably preferred not to give Harry what he
wanted. He rounded on Harry, blocking the path to the hole. Harry looked up towards the towering
Nagini in front of him, his teeth gritted. This was the end of it, Harry thought while he stared at
the snake's monstrous eyes. One of Nagini's eyes was bleeding, probably even blinded by the
injury, and it satisfied Harry immensely - before he'd die, he was sure he had given a good
flight. He further made sure he won't die wearing a frightened face.

“Now, you've reached your last, Harry Potter!” Voldemort laughed and screamed. “Kill him
now, Nagini…wha???”

Harry heard a heavy thump somewhere. He didn't know what made it. Nagini looked around, and
he hissed loudly when he looked at his side opposite Harry.

“It's the Mudblood!” shouted Lucius, pointing to the pit. “She fell down!”

Harry heart skipped a beat. Hermione had thrown herself down to the pit apparently help him! He
didn't know what good it would do for Hermione to join in the scuffle, however.

“H-Hermione! What're you doing?” Harry shouted.

“I-I want to die with you,” she replied from the other side of Nagini.

*“What?”*

Hermione grunted in pain when she stood up slowly from the ground to face the snake. Her sudden
appearance did something good at the outset: Nagini didn't know who to eat first, Harry or
Hermione. It made the snake initially confused, and maybe together they had a chance to escape from
the snake - if they had enough time to think of something.

“*Take Potter, you imbecile*!” Voldemort barked at Nagini, but the snake decided Hermione
posed more of a threat to him than the beat-up Harry so he concentrated on her this time. He'd
take care of her first before he'd start munching on his prey.

Harry knew this was not turning out good already because Hermione was now in mortal danger.
Though he was grateful with Hermione's show of sacrifice and solidarity for him, he initially
wished Nagini would have not spent time drooling over his dinner and Hermione wouldn't have
joined in. Now the last thing Harry would have thought of before he died was whatever would have
happened to Hermione after this.

Some Death Eaters tried to intervene by throwing curses down to Hermione, but they often hit the
swaying Nagini instead who blocked their view of her, rocking the snake as it absorbed the hit.
Their curses had no effect on him, but Voldemort roared in anger, cursing and shouting at the Death
Eaters who acted without orders.

“Cease fire, you idiots!” Voldemort shouted, sending his own curse at some of them, which
knocked them off their feet. “You're breaking Nagini's concentration! He can handle the
Mudblood and Potter himself!” He looked down at Nagini and he said “Nagini, kill the Mudblood if
you want, she's yours! I have no use for her now!”

Nagini towered on Hermione and shadowed her while she backed up slowly towards the wall behind
her, much like Harry had done before. Harry knew Nagini won't allow himself to fall into the
trick this time and he would strike Hermione very soon. So, in an attempt to take away the
snake's attention on Hermione, Harry fought the pain and soreness of his body to stand up, run
towards the back of the snake, leap with all his might, and cling on Nagini's back as tightly
as he can. Once he stuck on Nagini, Harry didn't mind how ridiculous it looked - and how gross
it was - by biting the humongous snake's skin next with his teeth.

Nagini felt the nip behind his back and flailed wildly. Harry was like an annoying insect that
was stinging him from behind and the pesky insect needed to be quashed. Harry held on to Nagini
with his hands, arms, and to some extent, his teeth as tightly as he could - Nagini couldn't
shake him off no matter hard he tried. Feeling that the snake had stopped flailing, Harry opened
his eyes. He saw Nagini staring down at him angrily, his hissing tongue just inches away from
Harry's. Harry gulped - he knew what would happen next. In a split second, the snake pounced to
bite him off, but Harry had let himself go already, falling back down on the ground again, and
rolling to cushion the impact of his own landing.

Instead of biting Harry, Nagini had gnawed at himself! Blood spurted out of Nagini's
punctured body, and the snake hissed loudly in extreme agony out of his own doing. Harry took the
opportunity to reunite with Hermione, who had her hands over her mouth and her eyes wide as she
watched Nagini flap wildly on the ground in front of her as if the pain would kill him.

Voldemort roared in fury. “*You* *fiends*!” he yelled. “*Look what you have done
with my Nagini*! I will now kill you two myself even with my own bare hands!” He started sending
his own curses down towards Harry and Hermione. Harry didn't wait to watch the fireworks coming
from above. He grabbed Hermione, spun her around, and stuffed her inside the snake's hole.
Dodging the curses successfully, Harry had followed right behind her next.

Harry and Hermione had gotten in the snake hole unscathed from Voldemort's curses. They both
looked out of the hole, seeing the last remaining curses from Voldemort bounce harmlessly at the
foot of it. It was dark inside, and the only light they could see was coming from the pit, and it
was gloomy enough to begin with. They could hear Voldemort's furious tirade from outside.

“Get into the pit and pull them out of there!” Lucius barked.

“Th-They're coming!” Hermione whimpered.

Harry knew what he and Hermione were in for. With nowhere to go now, they were trapped and will
surely be captured once again; they didn't know how they'll get away this time. They both
heard the thumps of many pairs of feet as they landed on the pit outside, and they could see the
Death Eaters' feet scuttling towards them. Devoid of his wand, Harry braced himself for a
violent encounter with them.

Hermione gasped, as if she suddenly realized something.

“Harry, move back!” Hermione told him and she pulled him further away from the hole. For Harry,
it was probably Hermione's last vain attempt to create more distance from the Death Eater's
who'd surely be upon them in seconds. Hermione, however, had other desperate measures in her
mind.

Hermione took out a wand from her robe pocket and aimed it to the top of the hole.

“*Bombardia*!” she yelled. Like a huge artillery round coming out of a cannon, the spell
hit the wall on top of the hole and created a cascade of heavy soil and rocks, blocking the
passageway completely. Harry covered his head, expecting to be swamped with loose soil from the
ceiling, but nothing happened.

A few seconds passed after the last of the earth and rocks fell down. It was pitch dark already
inside the snake's hole. They had trapped themselves in it.

“Harry, you okay?” Hermione asked him urgently in the dark. Her voice was shaking, and Harry
could tell the pain she still felt with the sound of it.

“For now, yeah,” Harry breathed. “Thanks for saving me, but now what do we do?”

“*Lumos!*” Hermione muttered, and the wand she held gave them a source of light, though it
was a little dimmer than usual. “Hey, that's strange - Oh, I think that explains it…I don't
know whose wand is this in my pocket, because I'm positive I lost mine out there when
Voldermort…” she trailed off and then wept completely, collapsing slowly to the floor. Harry could
see her shaking from the dim wand light.

“Hey, hey,” Harry said softly, coming over to Hermione, hugging her, and letting her cry on his
shoulder.

“H-Harry - did I miss something?” she cried, looking up at Harry. “I don't know what
h-happened. We were in Hogsmeade, and the next thing I saw was you on the floor and…and t-then I
recognized him immediately!!! I-It was V-Voldemort!!! That was really him, wasn't he???”

“There, there…It's okay to cry. I know how frightful it is for you to face Voldemort like
that…”

“H-Harry, *I didn't know he was that so* *scary*!!!” she screamed. “He was going
to m-murder me…and I couldn't seem to f-fight him!” She bawled again in extreme fright.

“But you were really brave out there, Hermione,” Harry whispered. “Others would have given up
without a fight…”

“Harry, p-please tell me…where are we? Why're we here? Why?!? H-He was so scary - he was so
scary…”

Harry exhaled heavily. Seeing Hermione hadn't gotten over with her shock meeting and facing
Voldemort so abruptly yet, he didn't know how to answer. He opted to keep quiet at this time
and comfort her, hoping that she'll gradually calm down soon. Telling her the truth how they
got here would be bad for now, since it was Hermione who in fact helped the Death Eaters bring
Harry back directly to Xanthius even if she was under their control. She won't be able to
accept that at once, and it might just aggravate her grief even more. There was a time for that,
and this wasn't it. Harry let her cry for a long time - it was the only way she could calm
herself down relatively.

“I promise to tell you in another time,” Harry vowed later while stroking her hair when
Hermione's cry seem to have subsided. She nodded in response, even though her breathing was
still choppy. “But I'm glad you're back…”

“Wh-What do you mean?” she sobbed.

“We must now find a way how to get out of here first,” Harry said, ignoring her question.

“I-I think I'm okay now,” she said, “but I can't still get Voldemort out of my
mind…he's so scary…just scary…”

Harry nodded his head, understanding what Hermione was feeling. “You'll get over it, I know
you're strong - you always are…” He hugged her tighter and gently let her go to pick up his
wand, which was still lit on the ground.

“Hey, this is my wand!” Harry said, goggling at it after he felt its handle. He recalled
Hermione disarming him back at Hogsmeade, and while she lost hers during her confrontation with
Voldemort, she had Harry's wand in her pocket all the time, which was a very fortunate
thing.

“Are you sure?” she asked, her voice still quivering. “H-how did that get in my pocket?”

“Yes, it's mine. But, uhm, I'll explain later. But first…*Nox*!” Harry muttered.
The light on his wand died. He planned to redo the Lumos charm on his own wand to get the most
light out of it. However, the light rippling on the walls of Nagini's chamber caught his
attention after his eyes had adjusted to the darkness. Puzzled, he said, “Hermione, what do you
think it is?”

“L-looks like light reflected from some body of water!” she sniffed, looking around. “There
might be a hole somewhere around here…”

“Lumos!” Harry muttered. He scanned the more intense wand light around the walls and ceiling,
trying to find the hole Hermione suggested. At last, just a few feet ahead of them on the wall
opposite the collapsed hole leading to the pit, Harry's wand light had extended. It looked
really like a hole, a tunnel to be more exact, and it was wide enough to accommodate Nagini. Harry
moved over toward it, and he could hear water flowing like a river at the other side, and smelling
fresher air coming in.

“I think we're in luck!” Harry said, heartened by the discovery. “This could be our way out
of here…I hope. Let's go?”

Hermione nodded, trying hard to regain herself. Harry reached for Hermione's hand and they
both entered the tunnel at a crouch. It looked very long, uneven, and winding. Careful not to slip
(the surface was damp), they slowly moved forward. Further down the tunnel went; they could now
hear the sound of flowing water getting louder as they advanced. Soon, they could feel cooler air
gushing in to them. They emerged out of the other end of the tunnel and they ended up on a narrow
ledge at the edge of what seemed to be a low cliff in a fully enclosed cavern. A rampaging
underground river flowed not more than thirty feet beneath them. The cavern had its own eerie light
illuminating the whole area, and they didn't know where it came from.

“*Nox!*” Harry said.

Harry and Hermione looked around as they stood carefully on the ledge, pressing their backs on
the cliff. The cavern was huge, and its cylindrical shape followed the direction of the river.
Several different plants, moss, algae, and weeds grew abundantly in and around the damp brown
walls.

“Where do you think we should go?” Harry asked Hermione. He noticed she was dirty all over. Her
robes and uniform were stained with earth, and her face was soiled. If she was that way, Harry
thought, and then he might have looked like her, but even worse. He could feel the thin film of
dirt on his own face, too.

“I guess we go against the river flow - where it could be higher,” she suggested.

“Good thinking,” Harry agreed. Pointing to their right, he said, “Lets go this way…”

After they started walking a few feet ahead very carefully, they heard a small and muffled
“boom” coming from somewhere. The cliff they stood on shook slightly.

“H-Harry, what's happening?” Hermione said, clinging to Harry and the edge of the cliff at
the same time, the whites of her eyes standing out of the gloomy surrounding as she looked
around.

“I t-think they're breaking through, the Death Eaters?” Harry thought loudly.

They both looked to the direction from where they came at the mouth of the tunnel anxiously, and
soon they saw rays of light coming from within.

Hermione looked at Harry. “Correction, Harry,” she said apprehensively. “They're not
breaking through - they've *broken* through!”

“Let's beat it out of here!” Harry said, and he tugged Hermione's hand. The ledge they
were walking on was getting precariously narrower - it was just wide enough to accommodate the
length of their feet. But they had to move as fast as they can or else they will be captured.

A Death Eater had emerged at the end of the tunnel and entered the cavern. He looked around and
he spotted Harry and Hermione getting away (they were about less than ten yards ahead). “There they
are!”

Hermione screamed, and Harry tugged her hand to move on along with him. Several Death Eaters had
gotten out of the tunnel and inched along the ledge to pursue them. One of Death Eaters shot a
violent spell to Harry and Hermione, and it hit the wall of the cliff just inches behind them,
creating a tremor that everybody standing on the ledge had felt.

“*No*!” barked the nearest Death Eater back to his colleague. “You might kill them!
Remember what the Dark Lord told us - they're his!”

“C'mon,” Harry said to Hermione, “if we move on ahead from them they might lose us - they
won't dare to kill us!”

Hermione nodded. They didn't know how far the ledge would go, but they hoped it was
somewhere out of here. The cavern looked endless.

For more than a hundred yards the chase ensued. The Death Eaters neither gained ground nor lost
it. But soon Harry's spirits dropped when he saw the ledge was getting thinner and thinner as
they moved along it, and this slowed them down significantly.

“Harry, I think they're gaining on us!” Hermione said anxiously.

“Keep going!” Harry said.

But it was getting harder to. The width of the ledge shrunk to a third of their feet. Worse, the
surface was slippery. One wrong move and they would fall on the rampaging river just a little more
than thirty feet above them. Meanwhile, the nearest Death Eater was closing in fast, about a
stone's throw away.

“H-Harry!” Hermione whimpered.

“C'mon! I see a new opening up ahead! Just a little more!”

The situation got even much worse for the both of them. Another Death Eater had appeared at the
mouth of the opening Harry had found. Harry and Hermione dropped their breath. They were
trapped!

“Hold on to me!” Harry said. Hermione grabbed Harry's arm with both hands, and she looked
back at the approaching Death Eater who was almost three yards away from her and he was now
extending his arm to grab her.

Harry tried to reach for his wand but it was difficult when his left arm was holding on to
Hermione and the other grasping the edge of the cliff behind him for balance.

“They're almost on to us!” Hermione shrieked.

Harry didn't know what the Death Eater ahead of him was thinking but he pulled out his wand
and pointed it at both Harry and Hermione and bellowed, “Repulso!”

Harry dodged the spell slightly but Hermione was hit instead, and the spell knocked her down
from the ledge, sending her down to the river. Immediately after she splashed on the water she was
caught in the current and was washed away.

Harry yelled invectives at the Death Eater - some of the Death Eaters who were involved in the
chase muttered curses at him, too. Harry only thought of Hermione who was in extreme peril, and he
jumped off the ledge and dove on to the water after her, risking injury and death.

Some Death Eaters cursed loudly, and one of them decided to follow Harry's lead and jumped
to the water.

Hermione had a head start of a few seconds, and Harry swam along with the current in the hope of
catching up to her. The current was getting much faster, but fortunately there were no rocks to
bump on. Harry had entered a narrower cavern now - it was getting a little darker that he
couldn't see Hermione. Still, he swam.

The river rampage was getting more and more violent, however. Harry could feel it accelerating
gradually until he eventually lost his rythmn. He began to tumble along with the flow, and he began
to scream, taking in some water in his mouth. He didn't know what would happen to him next -
the river flow might even get even more violent, and he was afraid he and Hermione would never
survive this, and their bodies would never be found to forever to rot under the earth.

With a last gasp of air, he was submerged in a pipe-like tunnel. The water was falling even more
viciously. After a moment, he felt himself stop abruptly - he had gone through a waterfall. He was
running out of air and he swam upwards to breath. Soon, he had surfaced and he gasped for air. He
didn't have time to examine where he was and began to look for Hermione.

“Hermione! *Hermione*!” he called, his voice reverberating in the underground cave, but
there was no answer. He looked around him, and there was no sign of her at the surface. Harry's
heart sank. She might still be underwater!

He inhaled all the air he could breathe in and dove down. He frantically looked around for
Hermione, and he hoped he could find her before she'd drown. Harry looked for his bearings, and
the most likely place he could find her was near the water fall. He submerged deeper, and he saw
something white just ahead of him. The white collar was the only thing that stood out in the gloomy
water, and Harry swam faster - it was Hermione, and she was motionless.

Harry grabbed her and swam upwards as fast as he could to the surface. Soon, he emerged from
under the water. He found the nearest bank and he swam towards it, Hermione in tow. They passed by
the floating body of the Death Eater who jumped after them. Harry didn't feel good seeing that
while Hermione was still unconscious.

After a few tense seconds he had reached the shore and pulled Hermione in. Remembering what he
saw on a TV show about lifeguards with red shorts and suits, Harry began to do mouth to mouth
resuscitation.

He didn't know if he was doing it right, and he began to panic while he administered it.
Hermione had been unconscious for a long time and she might be dead already. He didn't know how
to do CPR, and tears were now beginning to well on his eyes and run down on his face.

“Hermione, please don't leave me!” he told her, and he resumed mouth to mouth. After a few
more tries, there was no response from her.

Harry knew she was dead.

Harry hugged her off the ground and cried in grief. He couldn't believe he'd lost her
and he failed to keep her alive. He wailed, rocking her body with his embrace, drenching her wet
face with his tears. He wished he had died instead of her. He wished this never had happened. He
didn't know what would be life now that she was gone - they had just embarked in a special
relationship that would have been wonderful for the both of them. Her passing away was the most
painful he felt in his life that his chest was cramping with extreme grief.

Or so he thought.

Hermione jerked. She spit off large amounts of water from her lungs and she coughed off more.
Harry stopped crying abruptly and stared at her - he couldn't believe it! She was back.

“Hermione!” he cheered, still with tears in his eyes. “Thank God you made it! I - I thought I
already lost you!”

“H-Harry,” she coughed, looking up at him with her eyes barely focused. Harry tightened his
embrace on her, and Hermione lifted up her muddy hand to pat and squeeze his arm. “Harry, w-what
mess have we gotten ourselves into?” she said humorously.

Harry howled with joy, and they both hugged even harder.

-o0o-

Half an hour later, Hermione had recovered her normal breathing after a few minutes of ejecting
the last remaining water out of her lungs. She sat down on the damp shore, shivering from the wet
and cold, but she was significantly calmer this time. Harry had gathered a few twigs and made a
small bonfire lit by the Flamer charm, and that's where they both got some warmth.

They both looked miserable. Hermione's bushy hair was probably now home for a million grains
of sand. The soil on her face was already washed clean by her joyride from the river, but her robes
and uniform were still drenched. Harry volunteered to squeeze her jumper, robes, tie, and socks of
water after he was done with his. He still couldn't do the “Tempera” charm even if how many
times Hermione had taught him. She couldn't do it properly using Harry's wand - cold air
gushed out instead of hot air.

“I gotta wash my hair after this,” she muttered. “It feels disgusting!”

After being subjected to all sorts of punishment that afternoon, Harry sniggered at something at
last. Seeing Hermione back to her old self while they were both still in a dire situation like they
were in to at the moment had a real motivating effect on him. He had almost given up with living on
after he thought he'd lost Hermione once more, but now that she was alive and well he began to
think again of what to do in order to escape this underground cavern to somewhere safe.
Hermione's life had given him hope to strive to keep on living.

Hermione approached the bank of now Harry knew as a small lake and dipped her whole head on the
water to clean her hair. She withdrew her head a bit from the water, but kept her hair dipped,
while she stroked her hair free of sand. It was probably the first in Harry's life he had seen
Hermione's bare hind neck - her thick bushy hair had always covered all of it ever since he met
her (except during last year's Yule Ball when she wore that pretty hair knot). He didn't
understand why he was mesmerized about it.

“Harry,” Hermione said, extending her hand to him but keeping her hair dipped forward on the
water, “could I please borrow your wand for a second?”

“Uh, okay,” he replied awkwardly. “Why?”

“Just watch,” she giggled. Once she held on to Harry's wand, she tapped it on her hair and
muttered something, and suddenly it was covered in a thick lather of a shampoo. “Oh, good,” she
said. “It worked - only that it has no conditioner, apparently. I hope no one minds me polluting
the lake with this. Oooh, that feels so good!”

“Uhuh, yeah,” Harry said, getting back his wand but still staring at Hermione's hind neck.
“You're right - looks good from here…”

“Come again?” Hermione said bemusedly, looking back at him while she massaged her hair.

“Oh, nothing,” Harry grinned.

Hermione laughed. Perhaps she did hear what Harry said. “Harry, do you think they're still
running after us?” she asked, while she rinsed her hair after a few minutes.

Harry's face returned to being businesslike. “Maybe, but they haven't shown themselves
up till now - I think they lost us. They don't want to end up like him, I guess,” he said,
pointing to the dead floating body of the Death Eater in the middle of the small lake.

Hermione withdrew her hair from the water and squeezed it. Harry stared at her again - for him
it was so different and refreshing to see her do things a real girl does, and she looked striking
with her hair all bunched up all together and straight as what he was seeing right then. Hermione
had noticed him staring at her; she smiled and slowed down squeezing her hair of water in purpose -
she wanted Harry to have a longer look on her.

“Where do you suppose we go next?” Hermione said, swinging her still wet hair to her back and
standing up.

“Oh, you're right,” Harry said at once. “You stay put.”

“Where're you going?”

“I'll have a look around for an exit,” he replied. “I got to look for a way out of here…I
won't go out of your sight, don't worry.”

When Harry started to walk away, Hermione grabbed his hand and pulled him closer to her and
kissed him on his lips.

“W-What was that for?” Harry asked, feeling warmth all over him.

“For good luck,” she said, grinning. “Be careful where you step, okay?”

“Oh, sure, thanks!” he replied. “You know, you got to do that more often,” he said, breaking
away from her, smiling.

“Why only me?” she laughed.

“Be right back,” Harry said, laughing back, and he started to search for some kind of opening
that would lead somewhere. Hermione sat back on the damp shore, but didn't keep Harry off her
sight. Harry saw some deep seated rocks that he could climb and went over to it, thinking that he
might find something atop.

The climbing was difficult. It took him almost ten minutes to negotiate about forty feet of it -
but his efforts seemed to have bore fruit. He saw some dim light between some rocks - like it was
made by firelight. He looked through the gaps and saw a passageway at the end of it. He could have
been standing on a blocked passage and he began to remove some rocks.

“How does it look up there?” Hermione yelled from below. She had walked towards the foot of the
rocky hill.

“I-I think I found something,” Harry grunted, lifting up a small boulder with his bare hands and
throwing it down to the lake, creating a very loud splash.

“Watch it!” Hermione yelled again.

“Oh, sorry,” Harry said. He looked through the spot where the small boulder had been and he knew
it was really a passageway, big enough for him and Hermione to walk through upright. It winded to
the left, so he couldn't see what was at the other end. “I found us an exit!”

Hermione whooped from the ground. “What can I do to help?”

“I can do this, don't worry about it,” Harry assured her. “I'll try to make a small
opening between these rocks for us to fit into without making the upper pile unstable…”

Just then, Hermione felt a small tremor on where she stood. She didn't have a good feeling
about this. “H-Harry,” she said nervously.

“What?” Harry said, pulling out another rock very carefully.

“H-Harry…” she said more urgently.

*Bang!*

Hermione was knocked off her feet when the cliff, which was part of the waterfall a few meters
away, exploded with thick dust. Harry stopped what he was doing to look down and see what it was,
and it made his eyes bug out in horror. A new hole was made from the cliff - and amid the dust and
debris came in more Death Eaters. They had dug a hole towards the bottom of the waterfall,
certainly not giving up on recapturing them like they have thought.

“There they are!” shouted one of them.

Hermione screamed as she watched some half-dozen Death Eaters start to run towards her
position.

“Hermione! Get out from there!” Harry yelled.

She didn't need any more telling. She regained her footing and began climbing up the rock
formation towards Harry - it was the only way she could get away from the oncoming Death Eaters.
She didn't know how she did it, but she managed to scale about ten feet of the rocks upwards
where Harry had spent about almost more than half of that time.

The Death Eaters had reached the foot of the rock hill and started to climb up. Harry tried to
aim his wand to the pursuing Death Eaters but he couldn't let off a spell - Hermione was
directly in between them and she might get hit.

“Harry, j-just keep making a hole between the rocks!” Hermione told him while she kept climbing.
“I'm coming!”

Harry nodded and concentrated nervously on the single rock he thought could give them more space
to escape. It was heavy, and from the looks of it, it posed a danger of collapsing all the other
rocks on top of it, possibly sealing their only avenue of escape if he got too careless. Then he
heard Hermione scream again.

Looking back down, he saw one of the Death Eaters had caught up on her and grabbed her foot!
Hermione was fighting to shake off the Death Eater's grip from her while she hung on the rocks.
A couple more was gradually making progress climbing nearer to her. Harry knew she needed his help
now. He dropped the act of prying some stones loose and pointed his wand at Hermione. He could see
Hermione's eyes widen at him in wonder of what might have been thinking of.

“Was it Retractum, or Retracto?” Harry asked himself, but he had to decide which spell to use at
once or Hermione would be captured.

“*Carpe Retracto*!” Harry said, and a blue shimmering rope-like beam lassoed around
Hermione's waist and it began to retract, pulling her up to him. With the shock of floating
upwards, the Death Eater who held Hermione's leg reflexively let go of her and he plummeted
down to the water below.

“Grab hold to me!” Harry told her while she was en route upwards to him. She did what he said,
and caught Harry by the waist using both her arms. Harry helped her up further, settling her down
securely on a large boulder.

“You okay?” Harry asked her.

“Y-yeah, thanks, but th-they keep coming up!” she said, pointing downwards.

“C'mon, help me pull this rock loose,” Harry said, “before they're on top of us!”

However, a curse from nowhere slammed on top of the pile of rocks just above Harry and Hermione,
blowing the pile apart, and sending heavy boulders falling down. Harry grabbed a screaming Hermione
and covered her with his body, pinning her down on the huge boulder where they stood. Harry
expected intense pain coming to his back any moment when big rocks came cascading down, but the
rocks and boulders miraculously bounced above and around them. Still, he covered Hermione as much
as he can from possible injury.

The curse surely came from one of the Death Eaters from below who thought it was a good idea,
but it proved to be a very costly mistake in their part. While they scaled up the rock pile to get
to Harry or Hermione, they could not get away from or dodge the falling rocks, hitting them
squarely and causing them to fall down to the ground. Not all of them survived severe injury,
except for one - and about half their number where killed of being crushed by heavy boulders.

Harry felt that the avalanche of rocks had ceased, and he looked around. He heard the loud
moaning of wounded Death Eaters from below. Harry was afraid their only path to escape was blocked
again, but aside from rendering their pursuers out of action, the other good thing the curse had
done was the passageway was already partly clear of rocks. It was big enough to let them
through!

He didn't wait a second longer and helped Hermione up to get to the passageway. The last
remaining Death Eater was getting very near, his face full of fury. Harry let Hermione in to crawl
in to the opening of the passageway, and Harry slithered in a short while later. He got on his feet
and prodded Hermione to keep moving. Harry hoped real bad this was an open passageway and not a
dead end, otherwise they'll be trapped again. If they were, he knew what to do and ambush the
pursuing Death Eater when he advanced.

Much to his relief the passageway went on. The floor was wet and slippery, but this didn't
slow them down. The peculiar thing was the walls of the passageway were littered with flaming
torches. Harry had another bad feeling about this. What if this was really a trap and they were led
back towards waiting Death Eaters at the other side? There was nothing to do now but to find out if
that was true.

“Hermione,” he said, still walking fast ahead, “don't be surprised if we find Death Eaters
at the end of this passage…”

“Funny, but I've been thinking the same thing, too!” Hermione replied anxiously, getting out
of breath. “This looks like a freshly dug tunnel…”

“Merlin's beard, I think you're right…”

Further the passageway went. They didn't know how long this was, and there were already
shrubs hanging on the low ceiling, to the sides and at the floor. Up ahead they saw a long segment
of the passageway with weeds on the floor, but still they kept on going. They didn't guess what
it really was until it was too late.

The weeds turned out to be a large net, and it wrapped Harry and Hermione whole in a second.
They both yelled in complete surprise, and they felt being hoisted up like in a speeding elevator.
Up and up they went, and then the hoisting stopped as fast as it started. By the feeling of it,
Harry surmised they had elevated more than hundred feet up.

Harry said “I don't believe it! We fell into another trap!” He looked down, and felt his
guts drop after he realized how high they were, though they were exactly level beside a new tunnel
opening. It was a hole punctured on the cliff just a few feet away from them. He caught a glimpse
of the lone Death Eater who pursued them below cross where they were caught by the net.

The only way to get to the new tunnel was to swing in towards it, though Harry didn't know
how to do that.

“H-Harry, what're we going to do?” Hermione asked, with growing fear in her voice.

“Wait, I'll try to reach for my wand…” Harry said, and started to look for it in his robe
pocket. It proved to be a difficult thing to do especially when he was almost upside down in the
tight net with Hermione entangled with him.

“I hope you're not thinking of setting us loose by yourself, Harry,” said Hermione, sounding
worried, and shifting herself unsuccessfully inside the cramped net. “We might fall down a couple
hundred feet if you're not careful…”

“Do you have any other better idea?” Harry said impatiently, trying to move his hands around the
net.

“No, but I don't want to be splattered down there either!”

“Damn! I-I can't reach it!” Harry grunted. “Can you…”

“Can I what?” interrupted Hermione.

“I think your hand is nearer to my pocket…could you try to reach for my wand?”

“How could I? Even if I wanted to, I can't get my arm off this hole of the net…Oh, my gosh!
I see some people coming!”

A few men in dirty white robes walking along the tunnel came and approached them. “Look what we
got here!” said one.

“C'mon, let's bring them to the boss!”

Harry and Hermione merely breathed and didn't say anything out of extreme disappointment.
After all the effort they made to evade capture and Hermione almost drowning in the process, The
Death Eaters had caught them again.

The men walked to the end of the tunnel and pulled the net in containing Harry and Hermione
towards them with a long hook. Once the net was safe inside the tunnel, one of them cut the rope
that hung it, and Harry and Hermione both fell on to the floor painfully.

“Rather quiet lot, aren't they, huh, Bruce?” laughed another.

“H-Harry,” Hermione whispered fearfully, “a-are we going to see *him* again?"

Harry exhaled, feeling afraid for the both of them again, especially for Hermione.

Bruce, the plumpest of the men took out a large knife (Hermione screamed a bit), and cut open
the net, setting Harry and Hermione loose. “You two don't look like Death Eaters to me,” he
said. “But we'll treat you as one until we know for sure who you really are! One false move and
this knife cuts through your neck!” He seemed to be the leader of the group.

“Y-you're not Death Eaters?” asked Harry with a slight feeling of relief down on the floor
with Hermione.

“If you think we're one of you, you're sorely mistaken!” he said severely. “How bold of
you to wander this deep in our territory - we've killed many of your stupid kind already. I
think that's better anyway; we reckon if you keep on coming and dying we'll just walk out
of here eventually!”

“You must be one of the escaped prisoners…” Harry started.

“See here, how do you know that if you aren't Death Eaters?” The other men murmured in
agreement.

“W-we're not! We were captured by Voldemort…” said Hermione.

Everyone else except Harry flinched.

“I'm Harry Potter,” said Harry. “We were kidnapped and almost killed by Voldemort - you got
to believe us!”

Everyone else except Hermione flinched again.

“Yeah, right!” the man they were talking to snorted. “Just by saying his name and now you're
Harry Potter. You're Death Eaters posing as…students. You're here to infiltrate to destroy
us.”

“But we're too young to be Death Eaters,” reasoned Hermione.

“Because you're Animorphagi!” Bruce spat. “You can't do all of your dirty tricks with us
- we're too smart to fall for a bloody Death Eater trap!”

“B-But…”

“Silence! We will bring you to the boss and he'll decide what to do with you!”

Harry and Hermione were forcibly turned around and pinned to the wall to be searched. Harry felt
a hand dip into his robe pocket and his wand was fished out. Hermione however, fought back, whipped
around, and slapped the offending man who held her on his face, preventing him to search her.

“Don't you dare!” she shrieked, pointing a finger between his eyes. Her face was extremely
livid.

“Hermione…” Harry said.

“He's so blatantly fresh, Harry!” She said severely.

Bruce made a slight move toward her, and Harry covered Hermione with himself.

“What do you intend to do, boy?” said Bruce menacingly.

“I-I'll do the searching for you,” Harry told their captors. He didn't want to give the
men the excuse to manhandle Hermione.

“Okay, one false move and this knife will cut your throat!” said Bruce.

Harry nodded and turned Hermione's robe pocket inside out. Hermione folded her hands and
glared at the man she had slapped - his face was red with embarrassment.

“These are all the pockets she has,” Harry said. “She's unarmed.”

“Good,” Bruce said though suspiciously. “We'll see the boss now. Move!”

Harry and Hermione were prodded forward and they all moved forward along the tunnel away from
the cliff. Hermione had stopped being angry and now felt apprehensive again as they walked further.
They didn't know what was going to happen to them again. They had been through a lot of
uncertainties today, and they had a bad feeling they still had more things to worry about after
this. Hermione clung on to Harry tightly as they walked deeper in the low tunnel.

The walk took more than ten minutes, and at last they had entered a large cave populated by a
small group of people. They apparently weren't Death Eaters from the looks of it. They wore
white robes like Bruce had on, but not one of them were wearing a Death Eater mask. Harry was
almost sure they were the escapees he heard about back in Voldemort's throne room, though he
wasn't sure why they were his prisoners at the first place.

The cave was damp and humid. Harry could only count just a couple of small tables and chairs as
furnishings with funny little instruments on them. Some people looked at them warily, while others
were busy chipping off stones and grinding them into pointy tools. A few long wooden sticks rested
on one part of the cave with a couple of men tying the tools at the tips. Harry understood that
they were producing spears.

A tall and muscular man approached Harry and Hermione. She was half a foot taller than them,
with a dense curly white hair, very pale skin, and white eyes. He looked like an albino.

“What do we have here?” he asked. “They look too young to be Death Eaters…”

“Because we're not…ow!” Harry said. He was knocked on the head by Bruce.

“They were caught by one of the nets we set up yesterday, Hal,” Bruce said. “The male says
he's Harry Potter, but I don't buy it…”

People who heard Harry's name stopped what they were doing and stared at Harry.

Hal murmured. “Harry Potter he says he is, eh?” he replied. He walked nearer to Harry and pulled
back his hair, revealing his scar. “This one comes complete with the scar…”

“But I *am* Harry Potter!” Harry said furiously.

“I'm not convinced,” Hal said, releasing his hold on Harry's hair and walked away. “This
could be a trick by You-Know-Who. Probably Animorphagi…”

“That's what I thought so, too, Hal,” said Bruce.

“But you must believe us!” Hermione said. “We've been captured by Vol - “

“Don't you say his name again!” Bruce yelled threateningly.

Hal turned back to face Hermione. “What's your name, girl?”

“H-Hermione Granger, sir,” she answered.

Hal searched for her name in his mind, and he shook his head. “Doesn't ring a bell…”

“I'm Harry's best friend from Hogwarts.”

“You're too far from school, both of you...”

“It's because we've been captured by…VOLDEMORT!” Harry bellowed, rolling his eyes.

Everyone gasped upon hearing Voldemort's name, but not Hal.

“Impressive for a Death Eater to mention his master's name,” Hal laughed, “but that
doesn't convince me any further.”

“Then what in tarnation do you want us to do to convince you otherwise?” Hermione said
indignantly.

Just then, one of the escaped prisoners came in the cave, dragging in a dead Death Eater
body.

“Where'd that one come from, Abe?” asked Hal, looking down at the body.

“This one came in just behind those two,” Abe replied, jerking his head towards Harry and
Hermione. “Tried to sneak in, but I ambushed and killed him before he could come in any
further.”

Hal grunted. “Looks like your diversion didn't work, *Harry* and *Hermione*.”

Harry and Hermione looked at each other incredulously. “He's not with us…he was chasing us
before we got caught in the net…” Harry tried to tell Hal.

“Too late, you're Death Eaters and you will die,” Hal said with finality in his voice.
“Bruce, take them back to where and *execute them*!”

“No!” Hermione yelled. “You gotta believe us! W-we're not Death Eaters!”

Hal, however, ignored her and walked away. Bruce and the couple other men who brought them in
started to pull Harry and Hermione out of the cave. They both struggled to stay in to plead their
case, but they were held on forcibly by the arms to their back.

In an attempt to escape from their new captors, and soon to be murderers, Harry had broken free
from Bruce's grip, wrestled him down to the ground and started punching his face to try to get
back his wand. Hermione stomped on the foot of the man who held her, making him skip on the other
in pain, and she broke his nose with a fist, sending him down to the ground, too. She moved over
quickly to Harry to help wrestle for his wand, too.

Several more people had joined in the scuffle. They tried to break Harry and Hermione away from
the shrieking Bruce, but Harry was too determined to regain his wand he was virtually stuck on him.
Harry swung his elbow back and hit quite a few faces. He and Hermione, however, were soon
overpowered and they were separated from Bruce. They were held on to the ground by many pairs of
hands.

“I'll kill you *here* right now!” Bruce growled furiously at Harry and Hermione, took
out his big knife, and swung it back to hack them. Hermione screamed in terror seeing Bruce's
murderous face.

“STOP IT!” yelled somebody Harry couldn't see. Whoever it was, he made Bruce drop what he
was about to do instantly even if he was extremely passionate about stabbing and killing Harry and
Hermione. “What's going on here?”

Bruce looked at the unknown person and said, “They're Death Eaters posing as Hogwarts
students! They need to be executed!”

“Hogwarts students?” the man said with a very coarse voice. “So, did they say what their name
was?”

“Yes,” Hal replied, “they say they're Harry Potter and Hermione…I forgot her last
name...”

“G-Granger, sir, Granger!” Hermione whimpered.

“What? No, I-It can't be!” the man said. “They're here?”

Harry tried to look around to see who the unknown person was, but he couldn't.

“You know them?” asked Hal. “They might be impostors…”

“Maybe I can ask him questions only the real Harry Potter could answer…”

“Who are you?!?” Harry grunted while being continually pinned on the ground. “Please let me see
your face!”

The man walked over and knelt down on one knee beside Harry to take a good look at him. “Hello,
Harry, *if* you're really Harry…”

Harry gasped. He couldn't believe who he was seeing.

It was Willard Wraskon staring down at him, and he was alive.

-o0o-

Chapter 19 coming soon

*Authors note (again): Didn't reach the 9000 word mark, but* *very* *close.
Please leave your review or comments after reading. I'm actually a little* *concerned*
*I didn't meet your expectations about where I'm bringing this story to, but it's
progressing* *well* *as I planned it.* *So that's why feedback is important for
the writers (grin).* *Thanks in advance!*

-->



20. Hallen Rodd
---------------



**Update** **(Dec. 13, 2004)****: Another update and another plea for a little more time.
(blush). I'm still working on Chapter 20, and it took another rewrite(!!!) because I wasn't
happy with the original composition. I hope when I release it, it won't be a dud (at least).
Thursday will be my schedule to release it. Thanks** **for your patience****.**

*Author's Note: Thanks very much for waiting patiently for this chapter to be posted!
Thanks, Thieving Magpie for your reviews, views, and useful critiques. (I'm trembling! Hahaha)
Thanks also to Andy B, Lady Blazey, PottersPrincess, and Musique for letting me know what you
think! Also to gal-txter for the heads up for the rec's. (We speak a common language aside from
English)*

*I'm sorry, this chapter won't include the “fun part” as I've expected and
mentioned before. Please read the authors note for my (hopefully valid) explanation.
Thanks!*

**Chapter 19**

**Hallen Rodd**

“W-Willard!” Harry said, feeling initially relieved of finally finding someone he knew who could
help him and Hermione out of this tight situation and possibly being murdered mercilessly.
“You're alive!”

“Yes, I am,” he replied, but not in a cheerful manner as Harry would have expected. Harry
didn't understand why Willard wasn't smiling back at him.

Hal moved forward. “Do you know each other?”

“Supposedly…I think we'll have to find out,” Willard said.

Harry gawked at him.

Willard looked at Harry and stared straight at his eyes. “I'm sorry if I have to do this but
before I recognize you as the real person, `Harry', you have to answer a couple of questions
from me, understood? One mistake and I'll…I don't want to say and think about it…”

“One mistake and I will let Bruce hack them,” Hal said.

Harry's spirits plummeted slightly. He knew he wasn't out of this yet, but he nodded his
head vigorously (he was still held down and pinned firmly on the ground). He thought he was ready
to answer any of Willard's questions and he hoped he'd choose the ones that were pretty
easy.

“What's the name of my niece?”

“Stephanie!” Harry answered quickly.

Hal grunted. “Oh, gimme a break!” Hal exclaimed. “That's too easy, Wraskon! Even the Death
Eaters know who her father is - you said they were held hostage back at your hotel to make sure you
do your work properly here…”

Willard closed his eyes in annoyance, knowing that Hal was right. He had to ask a kind of
question only he and Harry knew of, and it was very difficult for him to do. Not only that he
strongly felt this was really Harry he was talking to and that he didn't want his colleagues to
be given the excuse to kill him and his friend, but he didn't also want to risk their own
security either. He bitterly remembered their recent and unpleasant experience with their other
escaped prisoner, Francs Girbeaux, who turned out to be an Animorphagus Death Eater who infiltrated
the group and had pretended to be as such. The Death Eater had blown his cover when he could not
answer simple scientific questions from Willard. The real Francs Girbeaux was actually recaptured
during their escape. From then on they were all wary of whoever turned out late. At the same time,
Willard thought if this was another big attempt from the Death Eaters to infiltrate them, he found
it peculiar why they chose to throw in Harry Potter this time. That's why he was almost
convinced it was really him, but unfortunately the others didn't seem to appreciate that.

“That's totally unfair!” Harry protested to Hal. “I answered his question correctly!”

“*I* make the rules here!” Hal spat back.

Willard, however, ignored what Harry had said and proceeded with another question to satisfy
everybody. “The thing that we got in the tavern back in Dufftown…”

“The Pocket Portkey!” Harry answered immediately.

Willard nodded and smiled. One down and more to go. “Yes, that thing…what was the name of the
Tavern?”

Harry stared at Willard incredulously. How on earth could he remember the name of the Tavern he
had seen only once? That particular kind of information was now probably hidden in the deepest
recesses of his brain and it would take days for him to dig up. The mention of the Pocket Portkey
was definitely enough proof already - no one else knew about it other the Ron, Mr. Weasly, and
probably the bartender then who'd given up the pub lately.

“Willard, please don't do this to me!” Harry pleaded. “I only saw it once and didn't
care to even remember it! Ask me something else, please!”

“If he doesn't answer the question in ten seconds,” Hal said, “they're dead.”

Willard looked furious with himself. It was a stupid question, he knew, and he was like only one
of the thirty people who used to patronize the well-hidden joint before it was offered to him as
debt payment by the former bartender. “I'll change the question…” he offered.

“NO!” Hal growled. “He had his chance. He answers it correctly or he dies! He's a Death
Eater Animorphagi, I'm now convinced of it!”

“See here, Hal…”

“Answer it!” Hal shouted at Harry, with a frightening look on his face. Willard gritted his
teeth and he stood up, grunting in anger and rubbing the back of his head with his hand.

Harry knew Hal was bent on executing him and Hermione if he didn't answer the question. He
had never felt so pressured to answer a question in his life, especially when his and
Hermione's life depended on it. The seconds ticked on and he was running out of time very
quickly. It was just impossible!

“Time's up...” Hal said.

Willard made a move to shield Harry

“No, wait!” Harry exclaimed when Bruce pulled out his large knife once more.

“Hal…don't be hasty…” Willard said warningly.

“*Froth's*!” Hermione said suddenly.

“That's right!” Willard exclaimed.

“What did you say, girl?” Hal said.

“Froth's is the name of the pub. And the bartender who owned it before giving it up to
Willard was Zack. Harry and Ron introduced themselves to Willard at first as Ernie and Bert but he
didn't buy it later!”

Harry looked slowly at her with a wide smile. “But h-how did you know that?” he asked.

“You told me about the whole story one time, Harry,” she replied calmly. “I- I just remembered
everything you said…”

Harry smiled back at her astonishingly, amazed by her sharp memory. He looked around for
Willard, and he saw him wearing a very wide smile, too.

“There you have it - they're for real,” Willard declared cheerfully. “Harry's friend
here, who I am certain is really Hermione, answered my question correctly and then some that only
them could know. Please let them loose, Hal. *Now!* ”

Harry then gazed at Hal. The man didn't look actually defeated - he looked more like
shocked.

“A-Are you sure?” Hal tried to confirm. “The real Harry Potter?”

Harry stared at Hal who from Harry's view went from being too tough to someone suddenly
acting so stupid.

Willard nodded. “I guarantee it. You almost had the Boy Who Lived killed - you should have
detained them for a while before deciding to have them executed abruptly. I know what happened to
us before about Francs, but there are times when it's helpful not to get too feisty about
everything - I told you that so many times, didn't I?”

“Y-You're right…I-I almost caused them to do something terrible…” Hal said weakly, gesturing
at Bruce and his band of defenders, and backing himself on to the wall behind him. He looked at the
people still holding Harry and Hermione down on the dirt floor and said, “Release
them…immediately!”

They obeyed, and withdrew their hands quickly. Harry and Hermione stood up at once and backed
further away from them.

Willard went to Harry and offered to shake his hand, which he took rather uncertainly. “I'm
very sorry all about this, Harry, but I really hope you and your friend are all right…”

“I-I'm fine,” Harry said, and he looked around for Hermione. She looked shaken and glared at
Hal who looked genuinely remorseful. Harry and Hermione's eyes met; she proceeded to embrace
Harry and buried her face on his right chest, hoping that he'd provide her with some strength.
Harry understood how she felt - she'd been staring straight at the eyes of death for so many
times already. She was very upset but she didn't cry.

“Harry, I know things may be simmering with you right now, but I have to introduce to you Hallen
Rodd - Hal for short,” Willard said. “He's the elected leader of the group - the man who'll
lead us to safety. I'll introduce you then to the others when - when things start to wind down.
But for now - Hal - you owe Harry here an apology.”

“O-of course,” he said meekly. “Mr. Potter, I'm very sorry for everything I've done
against you. Please accept my apologies in behalf of my colleagues…”

Bruce and all the offending people all nodded and murmured in support of Hal's
statement.

“We were carried very much away,” Hal went on. “Please understand we're living a dangerous
life here down underground while we try to survive and I know it's not your fault but you came
at a bad time just after we'd been freshly attacked by You-Know-Who's Death Eaters. Their
attacks have been relentless, and we have had some experiences of Death Eater attempts to
infiltrate our ranks. I can't imagine what would happen if we proceeded to hack you to death -
I should have thought about it then before making a terrible and hasty judgment.”

“You-Know-Who would probably throw you a party after that,” Willard said. “Or maybe he'd
kill you for beating him up to it for killing Harry instead of him. You then almost created a great
headline for the Daily Prophet tomorrow…a real stunner!”

Hal glanced at Willard uncomfortably.

Harry didn't say anything and looked down at Hermione who he was still holding in your arms.
She nodded her head slightly and whispered to him it was okay to accept his apology. Harry
hesitated at first but he knew it would not be good at all if he did otherwise. He thought Hermione
and he would be better off not being all alone together in a hostile place. They needed all the
help they could get, and at the same time they could be able to help these people for whatever they
were doing to survive. They were all in the same boat. Harry nodded reluctantly and smiled back at
Hal who then looked relieved; Harry offered his hand to Hal to shake, which he gratefully took and
everybody around them looked very happy.

“Thank you, Harry,” said Willard. “It's a bad time to be reunited for us, but I'm happy
to see you again.”

“Same here, Willard,” Harry replied, trying hard to take off from his mind everything Hal had
almost did to him and Hermione. “We thought you were dead. Stephanie was so distraught about your
disappearance…”

“You met her?” Willard asked, his eyes getting wide.

“Yeah, back in your hotel - Ron and I went there to pay you a visit, but we found out you were
abducted. Steve told us what happened…”

“A-Are they all right? What happened to them?”

“Don't worry, they're unhurt and safe back in Ireland,” Harry assured. “Ron's father
sent in some Aurors to rescue them. Stephanie is still probably worried about you right now.”

“That - That's good to hear,” Willard sighed. “I always think and worry about them while
they were left back at my hotel. I know they wouldn't last forever in there. Sometimes I wish I
never tried to invent that potion everybody's so crazy about and this would have never
happened. Hang on! What in the world are you here for?”

“Er…”

“If you'll excuse me,” Hall interrupted gently, “I'm due for a situation meeting.
We'll be finalizing our plans for you know what this midnight. Harry and his friend here might
want to join us - you might want to ask them. Nice meeting you, Harry - we'll meet again
later.”

Harry nodded at Hal. The group leader left with Bruce with some of the prisoners who bowed
guiltily when they passed by Harry.

Harry looked back at Willard, who still expected an answer from him. “We were kidnapped back in
Hogsmeade - Hermione and me here. Oh, sorry, Hermione, this is Willard; Willard, Hermione.

Willard smiled at her. “At last, I've met you, Hermione. Harry had always wanted for us to
meet, but supposedly in a much better setting.” He shrugged.

“It doesn't matter at all, sir,” Hermione smiled back. “I've wanted to meet you, too,
for a long time. Harry here talks about you always…”

Willard laughed. “And he mentions you always in his letters to me - about a good chunk of
everything he writes to me is about you…you can call me Willard.”

“Okay, thanks, Willard,” she answered back. She gazed at Harry, who went pretty red on his
face.

“So how did You-Know-Who get you now, Harry?” Willard asked.

Harry told Willard everything that happened to him and Hermione starting from Hogsmeade and how
they got to this part of the fortress. When Harry started to mention about how the Death Eaters
used Hermione as an asset on the effort (Hermione was especially shocked by that revelation),
Willard asked them to move with him to a much quieter place and they chose the end of the tunnel
where Harry and Hermione were brought in by the net.

“I don't want to let them hear about this, my fellow prisoners,” Willard whispered to Harry
and Hermione when they were all alone.

“Why?” asked Harry.

“You see, they created a Serum for You-Know-Who, and they vowed to kill anyone they knew who
were injected with it…”

“What?” Harry said. “You mean they're responsible for making the Serum?”

“In way, Harry, yes. They - I mean, we - were forced to develop and reproduce the serum in
question against our will…”

“So they're part of the scientists who were reported missing, too, along with with you,
aren't they? Is that why you were all abducted? To make the Serum?”

“That's right. Everyone you see in the cave is a potions master and a scientist. We all
succeeded in escaping the dungeons and decided to hold out here in the underground tunnels until we
decided again to escape Xanthius entirely. We have had out own important contributions to magical
science, and You-Know-Who must have not wanted to settle for anything less than the best. Almost
all of us are Squibs who have made up for it as being inventors. My personal discovery…”

“The Metavira Potion…” Harry provided.

“Yes, that. The potion is the last crucial ingredient to make the serum very effective. I was
the last to be kidnapped - and they didn't want just anyone to mix it up for You-Know-Who. They
wanted the inventor himself. We were forced to finish the serum in a matter of days - if we
didn't produce a working serum, we were going to be killed. I suspected even if we made a
serum, we would be killed anyway but my other colleagues didn't want to believe that.”

“What are you two on about?” Hermione asked, totally perplexed and lost, looking at Harry and
Willard back and forth. She had wanted to interrupt their conversation ever since but she chose to
listen. “Serum? What Serum? And what's this about the Death Eaters using me…I don't
remember anything about it at all! Is this some kind of a joke?”

Harry and Willard both made nervous glances towards her, and Willard said, “Does Hermione know
what ever happened to her?”

“I- I didn't have the heart to tell her - yet,” Harry sighed. “Sorry.” Hermione gawked at
him incredulously.

“Well, I think she better knows about it, Harry,” Willard suggested. “She has the right to
know.”

“Yes, that's right, I do!” Hermione said. “Harry, please tell me the truth. What happened? I
want to know!”

Harry exhaled deeply and asked Hermione to sit down and relax on the ground, and after she
settled herself beside the tunnel wall, Harry proceeded to tell her everything, including how she
allegedly got it. Hermione often shook her head in disbelief as Harry went on.

“I - I brought you here for Voldemort… I brought you here for Voldemort…” she kept on repeating,
shaking her head all the time.

“It's not your fault, Hermione,” Willard told her. “The Death Eaters brought Harry for
You-Know-Who, and you were just their victim as he was.”

“But I did it!” she argued. “If it wasn't for me, Harry wouldn't be here right now!
Right?”

“Indirectly, Hermione,” Willard said. “Very, very, indirectly. You were used without your
complete knowledge, and that is what's important. It does not make you at all responsible for
it, I can assure you. You're a victim and I know how the serum works. Actually I am much more
to blame of causing all of this. Because of my cowardice, I chose to give in to the threats of the
Death Eaters to kill me if I didn't obey them and make the Potion to complete the Serum for
You-Know-Who. I should have known they'd kill me if I prove to be useless someday, anyway. I
should have refused to work for them…

“I didn't really know what their true motives were to create this serum. My real belief up
to now was the You-Know-Who wanted a very effective way to infiltrate the wizard world with
unwilling servants for his diabolic ends in a clandestine manner. My theory is when the time comes
the number of infected wizards and witches would reach a critical mass, he'd unleash his
unsuspecting army to do his evil deeds…without question or any form of resistance. To me, having
obedient slaves who'll follow you to the ends of the earth would be the best army anyone could
ever have. But I never thought they'd also use the serum specifically to get you here in this
fortress and murder you, Harry. You-Know-Who probably thinks it's an amusing game to have you
here for his own self and murder you when he wants to. And to use your best friend to achieve that
end, it's…it's just wicked.”

“But how did they ever succeed in injecting it to me?” Hermione asked, now in the verge of
crying. “I should've suspected along something was wrong with me and I would've looked for
help…”

Harry told her what Seymour had revealed to him back at Hogsmeade. “They struck while you were
sleeping in your home,” he concluded.

“But I- I don't remember anything about that!” she pointed out, still in a state of denial.
“He must have been putting you on, Harry!”

Willard crouched in front of her and placed a hand on top of her shoulder. “The standard
procedure I heard the Death Eaters being taught about administering the serum,” he said gently,
“was simply to subject the victim to a memory charm. It's really a simple but ingenious way to
keep the victim oblivious to what was done to them. The serum works better if it's kept secret
from the victim.”

Hermione breathed and stared at Willard, slowly shaking her head. But he and Harry let her think
about it more deeply, which she did. Gradually she collected all the past events that had happened
to her before and she thought was very strange and that she could find a ready explanation for.
“What does the serum do, really?” she asked finally.

“You already know it's injected to the bloodstream of the victim, right?” Willard started,
and Hermione nodded. “The serum acts very fast and could be distributed through your system in a
matter of hours. First, the victim will have a sudden high-grade fever three or four hours after
it's injected. The fever will persist for about twenty four hours or so and will also abruptly
go away…”

Harry glanced at Hermione. She was listening attentively to Willard though she had some
difficulty in breathing. Perhaps she was being overwhelmed by the reality of the situation pretty
badly. “Willard, I think this is too much for Hermione…”

“No, Harry!” she yelled, glaring at him but her eyes were teary. “I want to know everything!
Willard, please go on…”

Harry merely went silent and bowed his head sadly.

“As I was saying,” Willard continued, “it's a sudden on and off fever. Then if the victim
doesn't die at first, the serum then goes to work. The victim is totally possessed. Now, it is
activated only by the voice of a Death Eater, and You-Know-Who himself. The incantation to possess
the victim is `*Domini*'. On the other hand, in order to release control of the victim,
the words are `*Vox Domini*'.”

“I-I remember Seymour mutter the first word very often,” Hermione said. “But I never bothered to
ask why he did so and what it is…”

“Who's Seymour?” Willard asked, and Harry described the Death Eater they often met at
Hogwarts to him.

Willard nodded and said, “So I assume he's the Death Eater who probably controlled Hermione
to do what everything he wanted her to do, which I don't have a clue of, huh?”

“But I don't remember doing anything for him…” Hermione said.

“Yes, that's because anybody who'd be controlled by the Death Eaters will never have any
recollection of what they did for them as long as the possession serum remains active. That's
the worst part of it. It's like you're a living dead - mesmerized. The Death Eater has to
release control of the victim in preferably a short time to minimize suspicion. Harry, do you have
any clue what this Seymour might have ordered poor Hermione to do?”

Harry nodded. Reluctantly, he told him and Hermione everything Seymour had revealed to him back
at Hogsmeade, especially the part about rigging the Snitch to lure him out of the Hogwarts. Harry
then proceeded to tell Hermione what she did to help the Death Eaters bring him in to Xanthius, and
how she did the Cruciatus Curse against him. There could have been other instances that Seymour had
succeeded in possessing her, which they thought they may never learn of anymore.

Hermione couldn't believe what she heard from Harry. She never imagined she could ever do
those things against him. For her it was like she had betrayed her best friend who had today asked
her to be his girlfriend and then accepting it very willingly. For her it was like she had deceived
him - tricked him for making him think they had made their bond even stronger yet she hurt him
harshly in the end. Though Harry didn't sound accusing at all, tremendous guilt however coursed
through her now and she couldn't take it any longer. The guilt she felt was so powerful - all
she could do was hide her face very tightly with both her hands from Harry, feeling extremely
humiliated about her actions. She cried loudly.

“Oh, Harry, I'm so sorry!” she bawled. “*I'm* *so sorry for everything! I'm
so sorry for ever hurting you!*”

Harry moved towards her, and he also couldn't stand seeing Hermione so troubled that his own
tears poured down on his cheek. He embraced Hermione wholeheartedly. He didn't want her to even
feel slightly guilty about it, but now that she was, he began to regret for even telling her about
the whole thing. He knew from Willard's description of how the serum works that Hermione never
had any knowledge whatsoever with what she was doing for Seymour the Death Eater.

Willard was right about one thing - she was never responsible for her actions. She was a victim
like everyone else. She didn't ask to be invaded at her room late at night by Death Eaters to
give her the serum. Voldemort and the Death Eaters were undisputedly to be blamed for everything
bad that had happened to all of them. It's because of their twisted and evil desire to murder
Harry with all means necessary that they were now here stuck in a hostile fortress with no clue on
how to escape. Hermione needed to understand that and not think otherwise. Harry did his best to
soothe and calm her down, but she kept on crying and saying “sorry”.

“I should have heeded your advice about not pushing it, Harry,” Willard groaned, feeling sorry
for Hermione now.

“I-It's okay, Willard,” Harry said, absorbing Hermione's every tear on his robe. “Mind
you, she almost died more than three times this year in entirely different ways, but I guess the
bit about doing the dirty work for Death Eaters is just too much to bear for her - well, she's
been crying a lot lately. We'll just have to let her understand there's no point to blame
herself too much…”

“I see…more than three times you say? That - that's horrible.”

Harry nodded, and Hermione kept on howling.

Willard watched Hermione in a commiserating way and said to Harry, “We have to help her and find
a way how to get that serum out of her system. I have to say she's still dangerous in the midst
of Death Eaters, and we'll have to do something about it. She doesn't deserve to die for
it, unlike what my colleagues are thinking of. All of Hal thinks of now is to kill - I don't
know what's gotten into him after we chose him to lead us. Bruce would naturally follow his
lead - he's been his lab assistant for years.”

“Yeah, they were a little too feisty back there, weren't they?” said Harry, clicking his
tongue and shaking his head.

“That's right. Hal, Bruce and the others seem to be too aggressive now for their own good -
they're actually nerds trying to look very tough, don't you know that! They're
overdoing it and it's becoming unhealthy for us and for them. What do you think would have
happened if they succeeded into hacking you both and Hermione dead? Would they just shrug it off
when the wizard world held them accountable for it? Then that would be terrible, totally
irresponsible, and stupid!

“They're very bright blokes, Hal and Bruce. I've known them for years. All they could
have done then at least was to use their brilliant minds into considering Harry Potter could be in
this fortress with a friend was because they were captured by You-Know-Who and had just escaped
just like us…But I`m afraid I do have to admit he had a reason to be wary of anyone coming in
claiming to be somebody we know…”

“Why's that?”

“Recently we had a bad run in with a Death Eater who succeeded into infiltrating our underground
resistance. He pretended to be my good friend and colleague Francs Girbeaux who took some time to
rejoin us after we had broken out of the dungeons. He kept disappearing, probably to report on us.
But when we confronted him and he could not answer a very simple thing as a common ingredient in
one of Francs potions, “Francs” morphed into his real Death Eater image and fought off our advances
to subdue him. Many of us were killed in the process, but we caught him.”

“Where's he now?”

“Dead - we pushed him off this cliff,” Willard said, jerking his head towards the end of the
tunnel. Harry whistled when he looked down, seeing large rocks and boulders at the bottom, and a
white spot where he surmised the Death Eater fell with a sickening crack.

“After that,” Willard continued, “Hal ruled not to accept anymore late comers. I tried to talk
him out of it for the sake of the real Francs, but…” he shrugged. “I'm just glad he gave you
some consideration, for our friendship's sake.”

“I- I still don't like him,” Harry told Willard.

“He's actually a good man, Hal Rod. Most of the time, at least.You just met him during a
difficult time. He's not being himself, maybe, because he's scared to death of…dying. All
his life he's been bullied because he's a Squib, but now we put our complete confidence in
him to lead us out of this hole. His qualifications, you ask? He came from survivalist training in
a Muggle school. The net you were caught in, it was his creation. It was made out of nothing, just
scraps that we found. His ingenius traps, the spike pits, and tripwires that roll down huge
boulders - we built them under his supervision. He had proven himself time and again, and fifteen
rotting bodies of Death Eaters prove it.

“Is that right?” Harry said, slowly feeling some growing respect for the man, though he
couldn't forget what Hal almost did to him and Hermione. But he'll just have to trust
Willard for now about what he speaks of Hal.

“Listen,” Harry said, “when I was brought in to Voldemort's throne room, there were about a
dozen Death Eaters pleading to drop the chase in the dungeons saying it was too dangerous.
Voldemort killed one of them for refusing to go, so either way, they're good as dead. They were
pretty scared…”

Willard laughed. “They were huh? I think Hal would be proud when he hears that story. But we
know we can't stay here forever. We're running out of food today. Two more days we'll
be too hungry to have the strength to escape. We've drawn up some plans on how to get out from
this awful place, and Hal and the others are finalizing it now. The schedule is this midnight -
good thing you caught up with us, or you would have been stuck here forever… which reminds me…I
have to catch up on the meeting…I'll be back with you two. Are you sure Hermione will be all
right?”

“I-I'll take care of her, don't worry,” Harry said. “You go on to the meeting.”

“Yeah, I have to,” Willard said. “I must push for my own important proposal with Hal before we
try to go for it. There's only one person in the world who I hope could help everyone who's
been victimized with the serum, and especially Hermione here.”

“Who?”

“Francs Girbeaux. They still have him, for sure. He was the unwilling project manager and he was
secretly developing an anti-serum. I was the only one he trusted to tell me about it, and I think
he was almost on to a breakthrough when we saw the opportunity to stage the jail break. He was a
slow runner and he got caught while escaping. I still believe he's still alive, and while Hal
and the others are currently planning for the great escape as we speak, I always insist of not
leaving Francs behind. Hal thinks it's too risky to rescue him, so I think I have to tell him
the reason why he's important and Hal might consider it very carefully.”

“Yeah, I agree, you must convince him, Willard! The anti-serum…”

“We'll talk again when things settle down here, okay?” Willard said. “Are you willing to
escape the fortress with me, Harry, along with the others?”

“Do we have a choice?” Harry answered, smiling slightly. “Of course - we wouldn't want to be
stuck here forever, right? We watch out for each other.”

Willard nodded and smiled back. “Thank you…I'll be back with you both soon and fill you in
with the details.”

“Thanks…and Willard…”

“Yes?”

“You seemed to have changed a lot, it seems I don't know you - I do miss the jolly bloke I
met back at the hotel…” Harry laughed slightly.

“Ah.” Willard stood upright and said, “So what'll it be, Harry?” he mocked. “Fried chicken
or Turkey - the order comes with a free humongous slice of chocolate pudding…”

“Thanks, Willard,” Harry chuckled. “It's really good to see you again…”

“The feeling's mutual, my good friend,” replied Willard, smiling broadly. He gave Harry a
quick salute and turned on his heel towards the meeting.

-o0o-

Harry chose not to say anything and he allowed Hermione to fall silent over an hour after
Willard had left them. He thought it was a little better when he left her to think about things
very deeply, though he had not let go of his embrace on her even for a short time. Hermione seemed
to feel very comfortable with his close hold on her. At the same time for Harry, holding Hermione
this close in his arms had a soothing therapeutic effect on him. It seemed having her that close
removed every bad feeling he had out of the terrible experiences they both shared lately. Perhaps
it was this very reason that Hermione chose not to let go of him, too.

They both stared out of the mouth of the tunnel, listening to the serene sound of the water fall
a hundred feet down below. It was Hermione who broke the silence.

“Harry?”

“Yeah?” he replied softly.

“Are you furious with me?”

“No…”

“After all I've done?”

“No…”

“I'm sorry, Harry.”

“It's not your fault.”

“I really am.”

“Hermione - please don't blame yourself…”

“But I hurt you!” she said, starting to cry again. “I'd never try to hurt you with the
Cruciatus Curse!”

“Voldemort controlled you…you're not responsible for it!”

“It's because I wasn't being too careful - I let them inject it to me…”

“What?” Harry said, breaking slightly away from Hermione to look at her. She was staring at him,
her eyes bloodshot. “What're you saying?”

“I let them inject the serum at me, Harry,” she sobbed. “I should have woken up before they went
in my room, I could have fought them off and this would have never happened…”

Harry sighed. He thought Hermione meant something else, and he gazed straight at her eyes.
Hermione looked away but Harry steered her chin to face him slowly.

“Every once in a while we goof,” he said. “But you didn't goof - you were fast asleep. We
are most vulnerable when we sleep, and the Death Eaters took advantage of that.”

“But you and Ron woke up before they did something to you…”

“That's because Moody was there in the room with us,” Harry said. “You were alone that night
in your own. You know, I should have insisted for you to spend the holidays with us back at the
train station. The Death Eaters would have found an empty bed in your room that night if I did. But
during that time I didn't want you to be deprived of the chance to spend time with your parents
because I know you missed them…”

“Yeah, I missed them all right,” Hermione replied. “But I shouldn't have waited for you to
insist even more - I wanted to spend the holidays with you then.”

Harry stared. “You did?”

Hermione nodded, and put her head on his shoulder again. “Harry, I've been hoping for years
for you notice me, but I'm glad you finally did back at Hogsmeade.”

“Y-Years?”

“But for me what hurts most is that I betrayed you right after we agreed to go steady, like
you've told your story. It-it's just a ruthless thing for me to do. For that, I feel I
don't deserve you anymore…” Hermione started to cry again.

“Oh, Hermione, please don't think that way…” Harry said soothingly. “I don't hate in any
way…”

“Because of me,” she interrupted, “you're here and you've been harmed - you almost died
with that snake…Voldemort should have already killed me - I deserve it.”

Harry thought they were going back in circles, and it meant Hermione still didn't forgive
herself yet.

“Hermione,” he said, “what's done is done, okay? We were all duped. It's not
anybody's fault we're here in Xanthius right now. Nobody should be blamed but only
Voldemort and his Death Eaters. Because he is so evil, he can always think of a way to hoodwink
anyone just reach his ends. Didn't Dumbledore say once the one of the best weapons of Voldemort
is secrecy?”

Hermione nodded, but kept sniffing.

“They kept their possession of you in total secret…Ron could have been the real asset - not you.
If it was Ron, we'd never know about until it was too late, like now. I know Ron personally
would never want to do the things that you were made to do back there…but even that he will because
he'd be used by Death Eaters without his total knowledge. He could kill me if they told him to,
but would the real Ron do that hideous thing to me?”

Hermione shook her head.

“Do you really think Ron would be responsible for his actions then if he was ordered to do so
when he wasn't even aware of what he was doing?”

Hermione shook her head again.

“Then it will also be the same for you, I know it.” Harry said gently. “That's why I'm
not mad at you even just a little bit. I'm not charging you with anything. You didn't know
what you were doing. You never wanted to do those things you were forced to do, right?”

She nodded her head this time. “Harry, I'd never want to hurt you - ever…”

“Why, Hermione?” Harry asked her slowly and expectantly, even though it was obvious. “Why would
you never want to hurt me?”

“Are you daft?” she managed to joke through her tears. “It's because I love you…I always
have loved you...”

Harry fell silent for a moment, but not because he was taken aback. He let what he heard sink in
slowly and beautifully. It was the sweetest phrase he had heard Hermione say to him - ever. It was
the phrase that he'd never forget in his life, and he beamed at her.

“But Harry,” Hermione said, “you know, Willard said I'm still dangerous with the Serum still
working on me…”

“So?”

“So that means whenever there would be Death Eaters around, I could be told to hurt anyone
around, especially you. I don't want that to ever happen at all. I don't want to wake up
one time and see you dead in front of me…it's just too scary to think about…”

“We'll find a way how to solve that…Willard said his friend almost made an anti-serum…”

“But that's still an indefinite proposition…so I think we must be separated for a while, for
your safety!”

“Hermione, please…” Harry said, looking sadly at her. “I need you…”

“But I'm still dangerous, Harry!” she said, looking extremely disappointed about the fact.
“Especially for you! I could still hurt you, you know? I don't want to hurt you because I love
you! Since I love you we must go apart for awhile! That doesn't make any sense at all…but
can't you understand that?” she stood up, walked a few steps from Harry, stopped and looked
away from him, holding her tears still on her eyes.

Harry stood up a while later, moved over behind her back, and placed both his hands on her
shoulder. Suddenly he spun her around and grabbed her chin gently to make her look straight in his
eyes. “Yes, I understand,” he whispered. “I understand that I love you even if you're very,
*very* dangerous.”

“H-Harry,” she started, but fell silent when her lips met Harry's.

Hermione resisted gently for a while but she then fell for Harry's spell completely. She
moved her head forward to tighten her kiss back to him. This spell was more powerful for her to
resist than the serum and she let Harry's love flow inside her. She lifted her arms to embrace
his neck and shoulders, and one of her legs rose up behind her from the floor.

Harry, meanwhile, never wanted to let go of her. He thought they could go on like this forever.
Hermione's kiss was the most wonderful sensation he had felt in his whole life. It was like
charm conjured by her over him a thousand times over. This is one magic he knew that never needed a
wand in hand. Harry tightened his embrace on Hermione's waist, and they shifted their heads to
another direction. Whichever way they kissed, it was like something fresh and wonderful for both of
them. Finally, their lips separated and they stared at each other's eyes.

“H-Harry - what am I ever going to do with you?”

Harry smiled. “Just say you'll stay with me…”

“Even if can still hurt you without my knowing it?”

“Yes…” he said sincerely. It was true that Hermione was still a threat to anyone against
Voldemort - that is, only when Death Eaters or Voldemort would remember to activate the possession
serum, Harry thought. But she was his friend, and she needed his help. They needn't be
separated for now. They needed each other now more than ever to survive during this time of their
hardship. They had no other option but to escape Xanthius. Harry was confident they could find ways
to go around the problem of Hermione - as simple as giving her some earmuffs transfigured from
something else. He could make it pink and fluffy if he wanted to. If there's a will,
there's always something they could think of.

“Am I still your girlfriend then?” asked Hermione, which touched Harry very much.

“Not only that, you're my true love,” he whispered. Hermione's smile faded when Harry
moved his head nearer to her again and they kissed once more.

Just then Willard came around the bend in the tunnel. “Harry I…oh!” he said, squinting.

Harry and Hermione broke apart quickly and both faced Willard, looking red in the face, though
they shifted awkwardly on the spot.

Willard chuckled. “Uh, sorry about, uh, disturbing you in a - *brilliant* moment if you
know what I mean…”

“Oh, not at all,” Harry said, and Hermione punched an elbow on his side. “Ow, we were just
talking…”

“Uhuh,” Willard said, with a wide grin on his face. “I hope you've already `talked'
about it, about what's bothering you. Just so you know, you're invited to our last supper
before we start our breakout at midnight.”

“What're we having?” Harry said, feeling his stomach growl. He suddenly felt embarrassed
asking about it.

“Nothing fancy - just he the last of the loaf bread we gathered from our past prison meals.

“Better than nothing,” Hermione said sincerely.

“Are you kidding? But I want steak!” Willard said, “Boy, I miss steak…see you in a little
while.” He walked back towards the main cave.

Harry and Hermione laughed when Willard was out of sight.

“Are you okay now?” Harry asked her gently after a moment of silence, looking at her
concernedly.

“I-I guess so…a bit,” she said. “But I know as long as you're at my side, I'll be all
right. I just hope they won't tell me to hurt you again…”

“If you're really concerned about that, maybe I could configure something into an earmuff
for you to wear…”

“Hey, that's a good idea,” Hermione said brightly. “But you know, wearing earmuffs can be
dangerous sometimes - I won't be able to hear anything at all. It could be a handicap…”

“Maybe we could subject it with a charm that blocks out nothing but the words “Domini”.

“Oh, I know how to do that,” she said happily. “Now, why didn't I think of that before?”

“You know what I think? I think it's beginning to become unhealthy being around scientists -
you're now starting to sound like one!” he joked.

Hermione giggled, and moved closer to him again. “After so much thought, I think you're
right, Harry. We still both need each other to get out of this mess. Thanks for making me see that
I might not have to take full responsibility about this…”

“Because you're not,” Harry reiterated. “You have to remember that always, won't
you?”

Hermione smiled and nodded. “Thank you for not condemning me…”

“Sure. The first thing we're going for is to clear out of here. Then we'll worry about
flushing out the serum inside you. I don't want them to keep on possessing you - it'll be
hell for you if they catch you again, and I don't want that to ever happen again…even if would
take my life I'll protect you…”

“Oh, Harry,” she sighed, resting her head on his shoulder. “Why do you always think it's me
who needs protecting?” she giggled. “You're as vulnerable as I am, don't you know that?
I'll do the rescuing sometimes…”

“Great,” he laughed. “Then I think you now know why we shouldn't go apart at all,
right?”

“Yeah,” she replied, kissing him on his cheek. “Yeah, I do. Thanks to you I now understand. I
think they're waiting for us now.” They both started to walk together through the tunnel back
to the main cave to rejoin Willard and the other scientists for supper arm in arm.

“Hermione, do you think Hal Rodd is thinking correctly about breaking everybody out tonight?”
Harry asked while they both walked. “I mean, I don't know how he'll do it - Voldemort might
have made Xanthius inescapable after we got away the last time.”

“Can we have it any other way?” Hermione groaned. “I guess we have try again or be stuck here
forever. Nobody would probably come to help us out. I think it's worth the risk and it is our
duty to escape. I still want to live up to a hundred years old, but I don't want to spend the
rest of my life here - we might as well die trying…if we do, I want to make sure I'll die with
you.”

It was a very grim thought, but Harry knew it was possible that this might be the last time
they'll be together. If he had a choice, he'd rather also die trying to escape Xanthius
than be stuck here forever. Hermione was right; no one was coming for them, if anyone even knew
they were here. They had to face it: tonight was the night they had to do something.

-o0o-

Harry and Hermione had been the last to join everyone for supper in the main cave. Most of the
surviving scientists, about less than thirty of them, including Hal, were now sitting down on the
damp floor of the cave each of them now holding his own spear. Hal was handing out rations of bread
to everybody.

“Hello again, Harry and Hah-mione,” said Hal, smiling. “I hope you've decided to join the
club already. We're having our last supper before we start breaking out at midnight.”

“Yeah, we gave it a lot of thought,” Harry replied, offering Hermione a spot on the floor and
sat down. “We don't have much of a choice - I think we'll have better success if we go with
you…”

“Great, because we need all the hands we could get,” Hal grinned. “You're both the only ones
here who could do magic, and I'd like to ask you to provide us some support when we charge. Is
that okay?”

“Uh, sure, it's okay,” Harry said, “but I think I lost my wand…”

Hal slapped his forehead upon realizing they hadn't returned Harry's wand yet. “Oh,
Bruce has it…Bruce!”

Without any more saying, Bruce took out Harry's wand from his pocket and gave it back to
him.

“Oh, good,” Harry said. “Thanks.”

“But it's me who's without a wand,” Hermione said. “I left it back in the throne
room…but I guess it's better that way.” Hermione leaned over to Harry and whispered, “because
I'm still dangerous.” She winked at him.

Hal looked confused. “I don't know what you mean by that, but it's a shame, really. Two
wands would really make a big difference for us…” Hal shrugged and then walked over towards Harry
and Hermione and handed them two relatively large portions.

“Hey,” Harry said, “this is twice as big as everybody else's. I think it's unfair.”

Hermione concurred and tried to divide her ration into half.

“Please, we haven't gone over with our apologies,” Hal said, gently preventing Hermione from
tearing her bread further. “Besides, we all have eaten late this afternoon, and you both look you
haven't had anything to eat today.”

Willard, who was a few steps away from them, gave Harry and Hermione a toothy smile while
chewing his bread. Harry and Hermione hesitated, but practically everyone in the cave murmured
their agreement and collectively urged them both to accept it. Harry sighed deeply and said,
“Thanks”, making them all applaud with bread in their mouth. The bread was a little hard to chew
and swallow, to Harry and Hermione's difficulty.

“This is the last we have,” Hal said to everyone. “So I hope it's enough for our plan for
tonight. We only have a little more than an hour before we do the breakout. We'll be moving out
by around ten minutes from now…”

“Hal,” Harry said tentatively.

“Yes, Harry?”

“Why're you planning to break out of Xanthius tonight? Could you wait for a much better
time?”

Hal smiled and nodded his head. “After much consideration, we've decided tonight's the
best time to stage the breakout,” Hal replied patiently. “We've been holding out of these
tunnels for a week before you came, and we realized no help would be coming soon. Our food supplies
are what's left you see. It's gone. After a day or so without food we will starve here and
become weak and we'll have no more strength to even move our feet to escape. Aggravating the
situation will be is - can you smell anything peculiar?”

Harry and Hermione sniffed the air. There was indeed something that smelled bad. “Yeah,
what's that awful smell?”

“The stench of death,” Hal replied, making Harry and Hermione pinch their noses quickly and then
look nauseous. “Many people died here in the underground in our own little war. The dead are
beginning to decompose. No matter how much we try it, we can't dig the floor with our bare
hands, and soon some of us may also die with disease. Even the river down below is contaminated,
and perhaps the water upstream. So we really have no choice but to try tonight, while our stomachs
are full and while everybody's healthy. God willing many of us will be lucky to escape the
fortress, we can go on and live another day. It's worth a try, even if it means dying in our
attempt. We'll take the chance.”

Every other scientist in the cave raised their spears and cheered. Harry nodded his head when he
witnessed the show of unity. He couldn't deny it; he and Hermione shared their beliefs, too, so
it strengthened their resolve to fight for their freedom with them. But he can't help but
notice how lopsided the battle would be when the time would come they came face to face with the
Death Eaters, or worse, Lord Voldemort himself. Spears against wands - it would be a massacre as
Harry would foresee it. But what choice did they have? This was a desperate moment in their lives,
and he knew not one of the people here saw would choose the option of giving up without a real
fight. Like him and Hermione, they all wanted now and hoped for was to live on even if the
prospects were very grim - their chances for success very slim. But they genuinely all had the
fighting spirit flaming inside their hearts. This, alone, inspired Harry to help them out with
whatever he can. These people didn't deserve to die here.

“Do you know the way out of here?” Harry asked next. Hermione nudged Harry and asked to borrow
his wand for a moment, and Harry nodded distractedly.

“As a matter of fact, yes,” Hal said, again patiently. “While we were locked in the dungeons, a
Death Eater who seemed to have sympathized with us gave us a map of Xanthius. It's from the
personal files of Daedelus Lowrie, the architect of this fortress.”

“Lowrie - I've seen him before…” Harry said. “So he's a Death Eater…”

“Was,” Hal corrected. “From what I've heard from the unknown Death Eater who we've never
seen since, Lowrie turned over Xanthius to You-Know-Who while it was not fully finished. Lowrie was
murdered by You-Know-Who by feeding him to the snake then after a few people had escaped when the
fortress was supposed to be inescapable.”

Harry knew it was likely him who Hal was talking about, but he chose not to tell him.

Hal talked on. “Lowrie left a slew of spots that weren't subjected to magic, and we've
identified a route that would give us the best chance for successfully getting away from Xanthius
with the least casualties. But before we dash out to freedom, we must take into consideration that
Xanthius is not the fortress itself. Its existing magic still projects a wide scope for miles
around. You-Know-Who will know where we are and he'll just have his Death Eaters apparate in
front of us to finish us off.

“Therefore, we agreed on a plan to raid the portal room before we emerge out of the tunnels. It
contains an orb that controls the best means of transportation for the Death Eaters in and out of
here. If we know how to work it right, we could open up a portal right here inside the fortress and
fight our way to it if necessary. That would be the most critical part of this effort, and God
forbid, the part where many of us may die. I'm sure the Death Eaters will do their damndest to
prevent us from ever escaping out of here.”

“How can you get there, the portal room?” asked Hermione.

“A small task force led by me will attack whoever is guarding the portal room,” Hal said. “Right
here…” he opened up the map and pointed at the spot at the center of the fortress, right at the
second floor. “We're here, and my force will enter the nearest outlet to the grounds here,” he
pointed next to another spot, which Harry calculated was about almost a couple hundred or so meters
away from the portal room.

“That's too far away - you'll be going through a number of hallways and you might get
ambushed or caught!” Harry said, looking at Hal apprehensively.

“We know, but Willard has asked us to rescue Francs because he has something very important in
him - an anti-serum. He convinced me we should try not to lose him, and it might also help with our
effort to commandeer the portal room. The dungeon Francs is most likely to be in is right at
opposite side of the fortress, accessible by tunnel. Some of my men will snatch him, and at the
same time create a diversion. We hope the Death Eaters will fall for it and concentrate on this
side of the fortress while we attempt to raid the portal room. They've been wanting to
eliminate us all for weeks, so they might find that a good opportunity to meet us in force - but
hopefully our men there would slip out of sight and the Death Eaters will mostly be all there
instead of here (the portal room side).

“After we're successful opening up the portal, my task force will be hightailing back to the
tunnels and everybody will rendezvous here.” Hal pointed at the center of the structure where there
was a wide and a long hallway. “We will do our best to open up the portal right next to the tunnel
access in this area for us to slip through. The only danger here is that if we fail to place the
portal on the spot where we want it to be, which *can* happen, it will open up somewhere else
at any point of the fortress. Then that means we will surely be fighting to escape. This spot where
we'll jump out of the tunnels is the only one we know where we can't be trapped or
cornered. It's one of and connected with the main hallways, and it's the most
straightforward path to any part of the fortress.” Hal sighed, and all the spear-wielding
scientists looked grim.

“Where does the portal lead to?”

“We all agreed anywhere in Hogsmeade,” Willard said, winking at Harry and Hermione.

Harry gave Willard a smile and a curt nod. “Okay, what do you want me to do?” Harry asked
Hal.

Hal gazed at Willard for a moment, and Harry saw Willard nod his head back at him. Hal looked
back at Harry and sighed. “I was asking Willard if he'd allow you to help us, particularly to
support my task force with magic. It's imperative that we succeed in operating the orb to open
up the portal. He said it depends on you if you want to help us, Harry - we'll understand if
you don't…”

Harry stood up from the floor and said, “I'll help you, Hal. Just tell me what to do.”

Hal nodded very happily. “Thanks, Harry - all you have to do is fend off any threats around us
as much as you can. We'll have a better chance of success getting in and out to have someone do
some magic directly for us.”

“Sounds okay for me,” Harry grinned. “Who's operating the orb?”

“I am,” said Bruce. “I've seen it work…”

Hermione stood up, too. “I'm going with you.”

Harry looked at her quickly with an uncertain look on his face. “But, Hermione, you don't
have a wand with you…”

“Harry, I don't want to be separated from you. Didn't we just talk about it back at the
tunnel? We must go together! I'll help you even without magic. I still have two hands…”

Harry, however, was very reluctant to agree with her. She was vulnerable without her wand, but
he couldn't deny they agreed on not ever separating from each other while they were in this
fortress. Harry began to wish they never had talked about it now that he knew what the
disadvantages of this were. He looked towards Hal for an answer.

Hal just shrugged and said, “I don't mind, Harry. I know she won't be a liability,
isn't she?”

“Harry, please,” Hermione said, now sounding pleadingly. “I know it's not time to get
emotional, but I don't want us to go apart. I don't want to lose sight of you…we're
each other's strength, aren't we?”

“Hermione…er…” Harry looked around. He didn't want to mention anything about her the threat
she posed to the group because of the serum.

Some of the scientists smiled and talked in hushed tones. They seemed to start enjoying seeing a
lover's quarrel start.

“Can you give us a minute?” Harry grinned at Hal. Hal nodded and Harry grabbed Hermione by her
arm, albeit gently, and pulled her out of earshot from the rest.

“Hermione, but you're still dangerous,” Harry hissed. “What if some Death Eater spotted you
and muttered the `D' word? Imagine what it would do to Hal's group.”

“I'm without a wand, Harry,” she argued quietly. “How can I be a threat?”

“I know, but do you think I'd ever leave you alone while you're being controlled?”

“Uhm, no?”

“That's what I'm saying,” Harry said, glancing back at Hal, who was busy discussing
their plans to Bruce and his men.

“But I already took care of it, Harry.”

“How?” he said skeptically.

Hermione took out a pink fluffy earmuff for Harry to see. “I transfigured half of my bread to
this using your wand like you had suggested. I've already subjected it to a charm to block out
only the word `Domini'.”

Harry broke out a little smile and took a close look at the earmuff. “Does it work?”

“Yeah, try it…”

Harry placed the earmuff to cover his ears. Surprisingly it didn't really block out any
sound even though he felt it cover his ears completely.

“Can you hear me, Harry?” Hermione asked.

“Y-yeah…this is amazing. I didn't think it could be done…”

“It helps being a teacher's pet - especially when it's Professor Flitwick,” Hermione
laughed. “Can you hear the word ---“

“The word what?” Harry said. Hermione did say something, but he didn't hear it.

Hermione took off the earmuff from his head and said. “I said can you hear the word Domini?”

Harry smiled broadly at her. She had done exactly what he thought of. And what was even more
impressive is that she did the charm with a wand that was not hers.

“Now, Harry,” she said slowly. “I'm harmless. Can I go with you then?”

Harry gave it a thought and eventually he gave in. “Okay, come to think of it I'm glad to
have an inspiration around.”

Hermione beamed at him and kissed him at his lips quickly. “Thanks.” They both returned to the
meeting quickly.

“Well?” Hal asked them expectantly.

“Yeah, we talked about it and agreed to help you together,” Harry said. Hermione knew this
wasn't what they really talked about and gave Harry a smile, which he returned.

“Splendid,” Hal said, clapping his hands once. “Willard volunteered to lead the group who'll
create the diversion and rescue Francs because he feels he personally needs to make sure Francs
should be rescued. He'll make a lot of noise to attract attention. I hope they could return to
the tunnels before Death Eaters are all over them.”

“We'll do our best efforts to find Francs before they do…” Willard assured.

Hal nodded. “Then everybody will meet at the rendezvous point. We will make the final decision
when we're all there. Willard, I hope you understand if you don't make it back in time with
or without Francs we'll get out of the hole without you. Remember the portal will only be open
for limited time.”

“Yes, I do,” Willard said seriously, and Harry gave him a surprised look. “I feel it's very
important for me to rescue Francs - even if your men would leave me, I'll keep looking for
him.”

Hal gazed down on the floor in a show of sadness.

“Willard…” Harry started.

“I know what you're thinking, Harry,” he said forlornly. “Hal needs you more than I do. The
success of getting to the portal room is vital to the whole effort. Not achieving that, we'll
all have failed. Please concentrate your best efforts on our primary objective, which is the portal
room. Everyone's counting on your success.”

“B-but will I see you again?” Harry said. Hermione went closer beside him and hugged his arm
softly, staring at him sadly.

Willard moved closer to him and placed both his hands on Harry's shoulders. He looked
straight at his wide green eyes.

“Of course, Harry,” he said, “you will see me again. Please don't think you won't. I
will be away while you do your stuff with Hal - but I'll do my best make it back to the group
in time, I promise. Like I said, Hal needs your skills more than I do. We reckon there will be
lesser guards in the dungeons, so don't worry about it. I'll be safe, thanks to the
tunnels.”

Harry didn't say anything in response because he didn't know what to do or say. A big
part of him wanted to help Willard with his personal task to look for and rescue Francs. Deep
inside him he'd rather go with his good friend to help him rather than Hal who he just only met
for a short time. He didn't know if he'll forgive himself if Willard didn't make it
because he wasn't there for him, but another part of him said that Willard was right. All the
hopes of survival for the group centered on their success in reaching the portal room whether he
liked it or not. It was much more critical because Hal's group would be exposed on the ground
rather than Willard's, which will have the benefit of underground tunnels leading towards the
dungeons.

“Harry,” Willard said again, “please don't mind me and concentrate all your efforts to help
Hal and his group. Harry, please, I'm asking you as your good friend.”

Harry stared at him silently, and with much effort, he agreed and nodded.

Willard smiled broadly. “Thank you, Harry. I'll meet you at the rendezvous point. I promise,
okay?”

Harry nodded again and swallowed.

“Good luck, Willard,” Hermione said to him with teary eyes. Harry and Willard's conversation
struck a heartstring in her.

“Thanks, Hermione,” Willard replied, and squeezed her hind neck gently. “Take care both of you,
okay?”

Hal moved towards Willard and shook his hand. “Good luck, good friend,” he said. “Please do find
Francs, will you? My prayers for you…”

“Yeah, we must,” Willard said, smiling back at Hal. “He's the only one who knows who can
defeat this dreadful serum - he's wizardkind's best hope.”

“Yes, I know,” Hal breathed. “You better get going. Remember to count an hour from now and make
the loudest ruckus you can. We'll be expecting you then soon after…”

Willard gave him another smile and a nod, and he turned on his heels to start moving followed by
at least five of Hal's men.

“Willard!” Harry called, and Willard turned around to see him. Harry walked over towards him and
they simultaneously hugged each other tightly. They let go a few seconds later without saying
anything, and Willard walked off and disappeared.

“I see you're really good friends, Harry,” Hal said to him softly when he came back. “I know
Willard can make it - he's not a total nerd like me.”

Harry glanced at Hal and made a teary laugh.

“We'll be moving out in a few minutes,” Hal told him. “Will you be ready then?”

Harry inhaled and exhaled deeply and said, “You can count on me, Hal. I'll support you any
way I can.”

“Me, too,” Hermione said, moving forward a step. Her eyes met with Harry's and they both
smiled back at each other. She kissed him at the cheek and said, “And that's for good
luck.”

To signify their solidarity and commitment in this undertaking, Hal exchanged firm handshakes
with Harry and Hermione. With a final exchange of well-wishing and good luck, Harry knew there was
now no turning back. He and Hermione were all ready to fight to break free from Voldemort's
clutches along with Hal and his gang. They moved out into position.

-o0o-

Chapter 20 coming soon.

*Authors notes: The climax will definitely be in the next one. This chapter took too long in
my view and I had to cut it somewhere where this won't look too bloated but at the same time
not lacking in both information and preparation.*

*I felt that Harry and Hermione joining in to something immediately after being traumatized
wasn't realistic, so the events needed to have some sort of a little breather. Harry,
especially Hermione, needed at least little time to heal emotionally. I also needed to lay out
Hal's plan so that the reader will know what would be happening around when they executed it
and what they're really up to so that you won't get lost in the chaos. This one took a lot
of story space. I hope I didn't create too much expectation for this chapter, which turned out
to be like a letdown. Yeah, I'm so evil! If you think I've overdrawn this, please do let me
know!*

*A review from you, of course, will be highly appreciated. You may want to take the
opportunity to rant - it's okay. (grinning). As always, criticism is welcome. Thanks very much
for your continued interest in this story. Thanks!*

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21. Scissors Against Rocks
--------------------------



**Update Dec.21,2004 10:30am (+8:00GMT): I hope I can post the next chapter within the next
three days. It is still incomplete (7,500+ words and counting) and will undergo several edits to
improve the flow. The next one will be the last regular chapter and there will be a long epilogue
after that** **in the form of an additional chapter in Portkey****.** **Sorry for the
delay.** **Thank you.**

*Aut**hor's note: Thanks* *very much* *for waiting for this new
chapter.* *I know I'm long overdue for an update and this took longer to be posted than
average, sorry about that.* *But* *I hope this* *chapter* *will be worth your
wait and* *I hope* *you'll enjoy it.*

*Thanks very much to PottersPrincess, Musique,* *and LadyBlazey,* *for your valuable
reviews!*

*I forgot to thank* *RetroRose* *for the his/her review of the previous*
*chapter, and for pointing out the specific mix**-up with the uploaded chapters.*
*Without that, I would have never known what Andy B meant before* *about the problem**.
Thanks!!!*

*Whrrrrr…* *(that's the sound of the reel spinning).*

Please Note: This chapter contains depictions of violence.

**Chapter 20**

**Scissors Against Rocks**

Harry watched Hal and the rest of his little band of warriors as they sat down to have the
chance to relax before moving out. (They were still in their cave - Willard and some other
scientists assigned with him have already left a few minutes ago ahead of them.) Harry could see on
the faces of the scientists that they were visibly fretful about what was to come in just a short
while. They didn't look tough to Harry in any way - that wasn't surprising for him at all.
They were just scientists. They were trained and used to handle test tubes and chemistry sets most
of their lives, not spears or crude sharp objects to fight some enemy.

But Harry had to hand it to them - even though they were mostly geeky, they were willing to shed
that trait for a while to take up arms against Voldemort. They were determined to fight break free
from his captivity. The common dictum of “liberty or death” rang throughout each of their
minds.

What was more striking was that they seemed to have put their full trust on their leader, Hal.
Harry had never heard them complain or whine about anything for the short time he had been with
them. They had accepted Hal's authority without question. He had found that truly amazing for
it was a small feat for Hal to apparently have success in leading a group of intelligent people
like them collectively. Harry knew that stereotypically, people like these had the natural
inclination to push for his own “better” idea and might try to overrule Hal with his, but they
hadn't.

That was probably the easy part. Their resolve and discipline would be put to the ultimate test
in a few minutes.

“Harry, what's wrong?” Hermione whispered. She sat beside him on a spot on the floor away
from Hal and his men.

Harry glanced at her with a smile and returned his gaze to the group of scientists talking
themselves out of their anxiety. He replied in a hushed tone, “I don't know…just by watching
them, I have a bad feeling about what we're going to do.”

Hermione looked around and nodded. “I just about feel the same thing as you do. Do you think
they're up to it?”

“To tell you the truth,” Harry hissed, “I think they don't, but we can never be too sure.
They're desperate - they know they won't last long here, so I think that's what drives
them. I just hope they know how to use those bats and pointy spears they're holding - but
they're a pretty disciplined and will follow Hal's orders from the looks of it. I hope they
could still carry that out when the pressure's proving to be too much.”

Hermione nodded, and she wore a worried look on her face. She took another good look at the
scientists, but dropped it and hugged Harry's arm tightly. She didn't know if the people
whose faces that rapidly embedded in her mind would be dead or alive after this was all over. And
that reminded her of the possibility that they won't survive this encounter at all, too. She
and Harry hadn't gone to know what their names were, but it was perhaps a good thing. Getting
attached to them would hurt much more so if, Heaven forbid, they were killed in the fight. All
together, it was not the best time to be pessimistic when her life and Harry's was on the line,
but she was only human and they had to get ready for anything.

To take the time off to wait for their next move out and remove their thoughts about these
things, Harry and Hermione talked about what would be happening with the Wizard world now that
Voldemort had announced his return by revealing his Dark Fortress to everyone. The only bright
thing they could think of was what to make of Cornelius Fudge who had adamantly denied and stifled
any talk of Voldemort's existence and Xanthius.

“He's probably gone into hiding from an angry mob right now,” Harry said, managing to laugh
this time.

“Serves him right,” Hermione grunted. “Now everybody knows who's telling the truth,
huh?”

“Yeah,” Harry replied. “After all the false talk and measures he imposed. I wonder if he'll
pardon the people he ordered arrested some weeks ago.”

“He has to. He doesn't have much choice - I'm sure he's been disgraced already. I
just wish he resigns and let other people do his job…”

“Right,” Harry said. He looked at Hermione for a moment. “You look like you don't have
something with you to use…”

Hermione nodded. “If you mean I'm unarmed then that's true,” she groaned. “I dropped my
wand back there in the throne room and there aren't spare wands here at all. I looked
everywhere!”

“D'you want me to ask them to give you your own spear - or do you prefer a small club?”
Harry offered, jerking his head towards Hal.

Hermione looked frightened. “Uh, no, I don't want to kill anyone at all - even Death Eaters,
mind. Disgusting - but I don't mind them using it for themselves. They're just Squibs.
Spears and sticks against magic. I guess they wouldn't do much damage against the Death Eaters
even if they were pretty accurate. If I were them, the Death Eaters, and a spear came zooming my
way, I'll just yell `Repulso'.” She shrugged. “But it's better than nothing, right? I
don't know - but maybe these folks have a fighting chance if they do it right. I hope the Death
Eaters would get stupid…”

Harry took out his wand and showed it to Hermione. “Want to use my wand? You're better with
magic than me, I think…”

Hermione she looked grateful to Harry for offering his, but gently declined. “No, thanks.
It's your wand, and you can do proper magic with it - I can't. Besides, you're getting
much better with Defense. I'll just be your extra eyes at the back…I'll warn you of
what's coming from behind you.”

Harry nodded and smiled at her, but he sure did wish she hadn't lost her wand. Being her
lookout was a big help, but if she had her wand with her, too, they could do better and wonderful
things together.

They listened in to a few snippets of conversation between some scientists. One of them said,
“No, no, no, don't use it like a knife - you do a thrust forward with both hands…if you could
bend your legs forward while doing it, it'll be much better.”

Another one snapped back, “No, I've seen this on the telly one time. This guy broke his
stick in two and used both sticks to knock the bad guys cold…it looked pretty easy…”

“Forget it - you can't even raise your legs higher than you belly. Just remember what Hal
taught us - you're watching too much Bruce Lee, Richard,” said his companion.

Hermione looked suddenly troubled again. “H-Harry,” she whispered after a few moments of
silently observing the scientists.

“Yeah?”

“Remember what I said back then when we fought the Oarling?” she said, putting her head on his
shoulder.

Harry nodded and pressed his cheek on Hermione's forehead, and she could feel her
shudder.

“I said that you and Ron are the best things that ever happened in my life,” she sighed.
“I'm not marginalizing Ron in any way, but I'm glad I got to know you - you're so
special to me, you've always been…”

Harry knew why Hermione wanted to say that. It showed she was beginning to have some doubts
again of the outcome this adventure after hearing the scientists bicker about the proper way to use
their spears. She wanted to make sure she'd say everything she wanted to say to him before,
well, before she might die for real. Harry, however, wished she didn't have to entertain that
kind of thinking. He wanted her to be strong. He wanted her to stand up to extreme adversity, which
will surely come staring down on their faces later, with a stiff lower lip.

“I love you, Hermione,” Harry whispered, kissing her forehead. “I really do…”

“I love you, too, Harry,” she replied softly, hugging his arm more tightly.

“I'd really want us to spend more time together after this breakout, to get to know each
other more deeply and I know you'd wish for the same thing. Do you believe we both deserve
it?”

Hermione paused for a little while to think about it, and eventually nodded.

“Me, too,” Harry sighed, “Me, too. But Voldemort seems to have no other wish for us but to die
in one form or another - would you like to give him the satisfaction?”

Hermione breathed, and she blew hot air out of her nostrils heavily. Now that she thought about
that again, she had learned how to hate Voldemort after what he had done to her. He didn't have
the right to dictate what to make of with their lives. She had now appreciated how Harry looked at
him since their first year - before that she trembled at the sound of his name. But not this time.
The new hatred she now felt for Voldemort underscored her courage to stand up to him the next time
they met.

“I think you're right, Harry,” she said. “I don't why, but I was a little gung-ho
minutes ago and I kind of drifted off for a moment…”

“You almost snuffed it a few times before this, and I think you're getting used to it, it
might be nothing…” Harry said but paused abruptly.

Hermione stared at him. “How can you say that, Harry?”

“Sorry…” Harry gulped. “I didn't know what I was thinking.”

Hermione, however, laughed.

“What's so funny?” Harry said, not knowing if he had to smile about this.

“Forget it…I know you're just trying very hard to make me feel better and strong,” she said.
“Very hard you don't know what you're saying.” She laughed again. “But thanks…and thanks
for being my hero, Harry. I trust you very much with my life…”

“You're very much welcome,” he replied, inhaling deeply and beaming at her. It was only
natural for him to keep her strong when she was weak. He didn't want to make her feel alone and
defenseless. She was Hermione, and she was more than his best friend. She was now half of him. He
can't afford to lose her, and when he'd show weakness to her she'd grow weak, too,
they'll both suffer. Without her he knew he'll feel very worthless. They had to be strong
together, to rely on each other's strength especially when facing apparently insurmountable
odds like escaping Xanthius for a second time. Harry knew Voldemort may have learned his lesson the
last time they slipped out of his fingers and would make it difficult the next time around to
attempt the same thing. If not difficult, it could prove impossible.

After thinking about that, Harry admitted he couldn't blame Hermione for feeling beleaguered
then and run out of hope. It was as if they were now spending the last moments of their life
together. He didn't know what would happen after they moved out - anything can. So it was this
that he tightened his embrace with her, squeezed her hand, and hope for the best for both of them,
and for certain degree, the people around them. One last good long kiss from her was the thing he
wanted to have with her, and Hermione gave it to him readily.

“Stay with me,” Harry said, after they ended their kiss. “No matter what happens we must be
together…I promise I will never leave you.”

Hermione nodded, her brown eyes locked on Harry's green ones. “I'll stay with you - but
know this…I won't die for you, Harry - I will live for you…”

Harry then felt a tear pour down his cheek. It was these words that gave him a reason to live on
rather than die trying. “Same here, Hermione. Same here…”

“It's time to move, Harry,” Hal said after he crouched beside him and Hermione. “I'm
sure Willard and the others are almost where they needed to be. Are you both ready?”

Harry and Hermione didn't take their gaze away from each other when they both smiled and
nodded.

“Let's go,” Hal said gently and finally. “We'll have a little walk towards the
rendezvous point, and we'll leave for the portal room.” Harry and Hermione stood up from the
floor.

“Okay,” Harry said, walking abreast with Hal in the narrow tunnel, Hermione's hand in tow.
“I'll support you in any way I can, Hal.”

“Yeah, thanks,” Hal said, smiling at him. “We're all counting on you. Your skills will make
a huge difference for us.”

For a fifteen year-old, Harry was really grateful that Hal and Willard recognized what good his
contribution for this effort could bring. Other people would most likely discount the skills of
kids around his age because they'd always think that he was `too young to do a man's
job' and insist that he stay way back from the action. But they didn't and they trusted
him. It was this more than anything else that made Harry strive to do the best and all he can to
make this thing succeed.

The way towards the rendezvous point was hot and humid because of the narrow single tunnel that
led to it. The air around them was getting hard to breath due to the lessening amount of oxygen.
Hal instructed everybody except for the people he would bring to the portal room to stand by and
wait for them. Harry saw a freshly dug part of the tunnel with a stone ceiling about seven feet
high, ready to be broken apart. A makeshift ladder was pre-positioned just under it to allow them
to emerge out on whatever part of the fortress on top of them was. But that had to wait until Hal
came back from the portal room to give the “go” signal. It was pointless to move out now when they
had no means to exit the fortress.

Except for Harry and Hermione, there were about seven people in Hal's little group to raid
the portal room. Hal thought that having more than that would probably prove counter productive as
it was pretty difficult to order around a larger group of people when something went awry. There
was also a danger of being ambushed on the way and if he brought everybody along, they would all be
wiped out.

The walk to their emergence point took several minutes. Everyone was sweating, but they
didn't take off their robes because they knew how cooler it was when they got to ground floor
level. Harry saw the end of the dug tunnel up ahead and they stopped when they reached it.

“This was as far as we could afford to dig,” Hal explained to Harry. He took out his map of
Xanthius. “We're about right here,” he said, pointing to one part of the map, “and the portal
room is about more than a hundred meters away from where we'll pop out. We'll be going
through a lot of hallways and pathways so things might become confusing. Just stick with me and you
won't get lost - I've memorized the way to and back.”

Harry and Hermione nodded at him, and they gripped their hands together even more tightly. Harry
took out his wand.

“Ready, everyone?” Hal asked the group and they all nodded with teeth gritted. “Right, then,
let's move out quietly. Remember we must minimize any form encounter from anyone whenever
possible - be it Death Eaters or other creatures. Speak out only when absolutely necessary.”

Bruce took out his knife and pried the loose wooden planks on top of him off its mount. Harry
and everybody welcomed and breathed the fresh air that wafted in towards the tunnel. Harry
volunteered to be the first one out of the hole on the floor; he looked around, wand pointed at the
ready. Harry saw that he was in a gloomy corridor adorned by paintings of sleeping dark wizards on
wooden walls. He warned Hal about this, and he nodded.

Harry waited for a few seconds and there was no one in sight and he heard no sound of footsteps
nearby. Quietly he climbed to the ground floor and crouched, still looking around for any threat.
He beckoned everyone out of the hole - Hermione went next, then Hal, and the rest of the group.

“Okay,” Hal whispered and pointed to the north. “That way - move quietly. Don't wake the
paintings up…” He led the way to the end of the corridor where a single door was. He opened it, and
peered out. There was no one around.

They navigated through a few more connecting hallways and rooms. Hal really knew where to go,
and Harry and Hermione felt lost already. The amazing thing was there were no guards around. Harry
didn't know if that was a good thing because it was mighty peculiar when the Death Eaters
weren't on alert when there were escaped prisoners around who were potentially dangerous for
them.

“I've got a bad feeling about this,” Harry hissed at Hal, but he merely nodded back at him.
Hal was busy concentrating on the route towards the portal room in his mind. They passed through
more halls and alleyways and soon they were upon a double wooden door in a large hall lit by many
torches. Hal signaled everyone to crouch low, taking out his map.

“The next room will be a long hallway, bounded by rooms,” Hal said quietly, pointing at the spot
on the map. “At the end of it will be the portal room - it's this large room right here. I
don't know how many people are guarding it, so we must be ready to fight if needed be.”

Everybody understood, breathed, and nodded their head at Hal. Hal tucked the folded map, stood
upright and opened the two doors slowly. He peeked into the open gap between the door and saw the
other door at the end of the long hallway open. There were several other doors flanking the
hallway, and he didn't have any idea what the other rooms there were right here. He saw some
shadows moving about the portal room.

Hal looked back at the group and said, “The room's got Death Eaters inside them - I
don't know how many. Let's stick to the walls…Harry, you stay with me…”

Hal moved in first and Harry followed next with Hermione. They quickly flitted to the wall to
their left - with their eyes fixed on the open door at the end of the hallway, they moved forward.
The last man in the group closed the double door behind him.

Halfway towards the end, they heard excited talk and shouting from inside the portal room.
Hermione gripped Harry's arm tightly. The talk grew more urgent, and the shadows long dark
shadows from inside went frantic.

Hal looked back to his group and said as quietly but urgently as he could, “Quick, inside this
room!” Hal opened the door behind him - luckily it was open. He urged everyone in quickly with his
eyes staring apprehensively back at the portal room doorway. When the last man of the group went in
the room he had chosen, Hal closed the door in time before the first Death Eater had gone out of
it. It was dark inside the room they got in but no one wanted to turn on the lights for obvious
reasons. The only light they got was from the corridor projected from the bottom of the door.

Harry pointed his wand towards it in the dark, ready to curse the first Death Eater to barge in,
but the sound of running footsteps and anxious talk went harmlessly past them. He counted at least
more than ten sets of feet running out of the hallway, and soon it was silent again. They all
decided to wait for a little while before getting out of the room again just in case there were
still others who'd follow, and all the sound they heard were the crackling of the fire from
outside and of their breathing.

“Looks like the diversion's on,” Hal mused quietly. “Willard's on the move…”

Suddenly, they heard a toilet flushing, and hurriedly went out a lone Death Eater from an
adjacent bathroom. The Death Eater had gone a few feet from the bathroom door when he realized he
was not alone in the room anymore. He stared at every face that was illuminated by the bathroom
light, and he failed to act instantly. Harry didn't know who was more surprised - the Death
Eater or them as neither side made the first move. It was only then that a commotion ensued after
everyone had snapped off from their shock.

The Death Eater tried to draw out his wand, but Harry got to him first by bellowing
“Expelliarmus!” The Death Eater flew back violently from the force of the disarming spell, losing
hold of his wand. He hit the floor hard on his back but he ignored the pain. He quickly found his
wand just beside him and pointed it to the first person he saw. An errant curse flew when Hal
snatched the wand from his hand, and it ricocheted a few times in the room though harmlessly.

Hal moved in quickly from behind the struggling Death Eater and locked his arms around the Death
Eater's neck. In an instant, Hal twisted the Death Eater's head. With a sickening crack he
broke his neck, killing him instantly. Hermione covered her eyes too late to prevent herself from
witnessing a murder.

Hal breathed heavily and he took a long time to let go of the Death Eater's head. Harry and
the other scientists stared at him, shocked to see what he had done. Sensing everyone's stare
around him, Hal explained, “I had to do it…lest he'll kill one of us. I know that these Death
Eaters won't spare your life at all…that's why they called that.”

There was a moment of silence and everybody eventually murmured in acceptance of Hal's
actions, all except for Hermione and to a lesser degree, Harry. Harry had seen Cedric Diggory get
murdered by Voldemort the past year, but seeing someone get killed by another one's bare hands
was quite more disturbing than seeing it done by magic (though it was a grisly act for him just the
same). But Harry knew Hal had no choice but to do it - unlike Voldemort who killed for pleasure,
Hal did it for survival and the safety of his companions. His act somehow helped his fellow
scientists accept that the fact that they had to do such a violent thing and not to take long to
think about it when their lives were on the line.

Trying to ignore what she had seen a while before, Hermione asked Hal for the Death Eater's
wand. “C-can I have his wand, please, Hal?” she said, trembling a little. She couldn't help but
look at the lifeless face of the Death Eater. He wasn't wearing his mask, but she didn't
know who this particular wizard was.

“Yeah, sure, I think this'll be useful for you,” Hal replied, handing the wand over to
her.

“Thanks. One good thing this little encounter has brought us is another wand,” she added.
“I'm against any form of killing, but that Death Eater didn't deserve to live, Hal. I'm
ready to go again…”

Hal smiled gratefully at her and said, “Thank you - yes, I guess one less Death Eater in this
world would be good for all of us but I really don't take any pleasure killing anyone.
C'mon, we've wasted some precious time with this bloke - we still have to get to that
portal room.”

“How many Death Eaters d'you think are left inside there?” Harry asked when they moved for
the door.

“I don't know,” Hal replied. “But we should act fast and put them out of action before we
play with the orb…I suggest we charge quickly from here - any objections?”

Nobody voiced any opposition and Hal nodded, knowing what his proposal meant for everyone.
“Okay, don't hesitate to kill if necessary - remember, it's either you or them,
understand?”

“Wait, I have an idea,” Harry said, and began removing the Death Eater's robe and mask. He
then started to wear them. “I'll go in first with this, and you all barge in at once from
behind me.”

“Good thinking,” Hal said, grinning at Harry. “That'll put them off guard for a few critical
seconds…C'mon, let's move.”

They all filed out of the room to the hallway quietly and faced the door at the end. Harry,
disguised as a Death Eater, breathed and began walking towards it. Hermione followed closely behind
him with Hal and the other scientists. Within feet from the door, Harry hastened his pace and he
had gotten inside the portal room in a would-be casual manner.

The portal room was a large, windowless, and carpeted room. To the left of the doorway was the
blue shimmering orb that controlled the only means of transportation from the outside world to
Xanthius was held by a pedestal in the middle on top of a square platform, and about four Death
Eaters were standing just a few feet from it. At first, they thought Harry was one of them who had
gone in the portal room, but they skipped a breath when they saw Hermione and Hal with
angry-looking spear-wielding and club-brandishing men right behind Harry charging toward them.

“*Stupefy!*” Harry bellowed.

“*Repulso**!*” Hermione said a split second later.

Two Death Eaters had already fallen within the first two seconds of the encounter. The last
remaining two had managed to raise their wands and curse one of Hal's men and he fell to the
floor. The other curse slammed against the wooden wall, exploding it and sending wild splinters and
thick dust flying around the room. Some scientists were injured with the blast; Hermione slipped
and landed painfully on the floor. Harry, however, kept his balance and attention towards the
remaining Death Eaters. Hal and the scientists kept charging, and the two Death Eaters felt they
were about to be overwhelmed and tried to flee to a more secure spot in the room for cover.

“*Lartigo!*” Harry shouted. His electrical whip caught one of the escaping Death Eaters and
electrocuted him unconscious. The last Death Eater tried to curse his pursuers behind him blindly,
but a spear flew from one of the scientists, hitting him at the back, and the spear went through
his chest. Harry grimaced at the sight of it - even the scientist who threw the spear gawked
soundlessly in the middle of floor after realizing what he had done. The Death Eater croaked for
the last time, his chest on the floor, and he died.

Harry removed his disguise and looked for Hermione. She was all right and he helped her up from
floor but she had her full attention to the lifeless body of the Death Eater a few feet ahead of
her.

“You okay, Hermione?” Harry asked.

“Yeah, I'm fine - I just avoided being hit by that curse and slipped,” she replied, brushing
off wood splinters and dust from her robes and hair. “But, you know, I've never seen this much
killing upfront in my whole life…” she moaned.

“Me, too,” Harry said, and he looked around when he heard a grunting sound.

“Martin's dead,” announced Bruce who had checked on the fallen scientist. He stood up and
cursed, scratching the back of his head while other members of Hal's group bowed their heads in
sadness. Hal, Harry, and Hermione looked at Martin's dead body speechlessly. He was their first
casualty ever.

Hal inhaled a large amount of air in his lungs and proceeded to the orb at once. “C'mon,
let's not make Martin's death all for naught…he would've wanted us to succeed. We have
more work to do - Bruce…”

Bruce strode up the raised platform to stand in front of the orb while the other scientists
proceeded to straighten Martin's body to a more dignified posture. Hermione, meanwhile, went
over to the unconscious Death Eaters and conjured ropes to tie them up securely. She kept avoiding
seeing the two dead bodies while she did so, especially the Death Eater's on his own pool of
blood.

Harry stood just beside Hal and Bruce at the platform to observe them. He could see the layout
of the fortress from inside the orb, and Bruce placed both hands on it, concentrating hard.

“Open the portal up just twenty feet from where we'll get out from the underground,” Hal
instructed.

“Yeah,” Bruce grunted. “I'm t-trying.” Harry, however, thought that Bruce couldn't do it
as no portal had appeared on the orb.

“Please hurry up!” Hal urged after a full minute had passed. Bruce was sweating and shaking
heavily as he stared and increased his concentration at the brightening orb. “C'mon,
c'mon…”

Hermione walked over towards the double door. She then looked back and wore an anxious look on
her face. “I think someone's coming at the end of the hallway!”

Harry dropped observing Hal and Bruce and ran toward Hermione. She pointed out where she saw
some movement and Harry spotted some shadows moving about at the end of the hallway, apparently
Death Eaters going towards them. He looked back to Hal and said, “Hurry up! They're
coming!”

“A-Almost there…” Bruce muttered. His eyeballs literally protruded out of his sockets and it was
extremely bloodshot; his face looked like a madman with his teeth gritted hard. “Almost
there….”

Several Death Eaters had alighted at the end of the hallway and ran towards the portal room.
Harry and Hermione knew what to do and shot a few curses to stop them - a couple of them fell down
to the floor but the Death Eaters had sent their own volley of curses. Hermione saw the Harry was
recklessly exposed almost at the middle of the doorway and she grabbed the back of his robes to
take him in for cover behind the wall. If she hadn't done so he would've been hit.

“Thanks!” he said to her, and he peered out again from behind the doorway to send out his own
spells.

A heavy volume of curses from the Death Eaters went through the doorway and slammed inside the
portal room, breaking down walls and torches. Luckily, no one was hit or injured. Hermione put out
the fire on the floor with gushes of water with her wand. Harry glanced at Bruce, and he was glad
he hadn't broken up his concentration despite the shock and noise. When he looked back in the
hallway, the Death Eaters had covered almost half of its length. He didn't know if he could
hold this out much longer and resumed shooting curses.

Bruce suddenly collapsed from the platform and on to the floor!

“Bruce!” Harry shouted.

“No, no. I'm okay, it's done!” he panted, and several scientists ran over to him to help
him.

Hal hurriedly read the orb to determine where Bruce had placed the portal. His shoulders
dropped, suggesting that something was wrong but he didn't seem to dwell on that and ran
towards Harry and Hermione to see what the situation was. Harry and Hermione had apparently
succeeded in delaying the Death Eaters' advance - they were stuck halfway through the hallway
now down flat on their chests and using their fallen friends' unconscious bodies for cover.
There were still more Death Eaters out there than what was left of Hal's group, including Harry
and Hermione.

“The portal's not where I've wanted it, but it's better than nothing,” Hal said,
peeking out of the doorway. “We must go now - there might be more Death Eaters coming after this
lot and that would be bad…”

“But we're trapped inside of this room with no way out but that way,” Harry said, firing off
a few curses. “We can't risk it…if we all charge out of here we'll be all wiped out!”

Hal pursed his lips. The rest of the scientists back at the tunnels were waiting for him. They
had to get out of here fast.

“Wait, I've got an idea,” Hermione said. “But I can only this spell once - it demands too
much strength from a witch like me even with my proper wand and…”

“Just do it!” Harry urged Hermione.

“Okay, watch this,” she grinned. Hermione closed her eyes and concentrated hard. She made a very
elaborate wave of her wand, pointed it out of the hallway, and bellowed, “*Liggid
Batto**r**!*”

“Whoa!” Harry exclaimed. A very large round boulder, which covered the hallway from floor to
ceiling, suddenly appeared in front of them. Hermione swung her wand again, pointed it to the
boulder, and said, “*Flipendo*!”

A thick beam of red light zoomed out of her wand and hit the boulder. It began to roll away from
them and on to the path of the Death Eaters! Harry could hear panicked screaming from the other
side of the boulder when it went rumbling down toward them. The Death Eaters were now probably
trying to outrun it.

Harry saw the opportunity to run through the hallway safely if they followed the rolling boulder
closely behind it. “Hal - let's make a break for it out of here!” he yelled back. Hal nodded
and beckoned all of his men out of the portal room - they all ran quickly out of there. Harry
looked around for Hermione and he saw her dropping down to one knee on the floor, her hand on her
head.

“Hermione, you okay?” he said, running back to her and helping her up.

“Yeah, j-just suddenly felt weak after that big spell…” she groaned. “That cost more than half
of my *mana* for today…one more of that and I'll be out cold.”

“That was excellent,” he said, and Hermione stood up.

“Exceptional spell, Hermione,” Hal said to her. “Those Death Eaters were like helpless pins
being run over by a large bowling ball!”

Hermione beamed at him, and she saw all the Death Eaters they had fought earlier now lying flat
on the floor unconscious after being rolled over by the large boulder, which had already vanished.
The path was clear, and she grinned once more with extreme satisfaction.

“Wait…” Harry said before they moved. He looked back at the portal room and pointed his wand
toward the double doors to close them. When both doors slammed shut, Harry conjured a few planks
and nailed them magically across the doorway to seal it.

“Good idea, Harry,” Hermione said.

The other scientists had reached the other end and signaled the coast was clear and they
beckoned Harry and Hal to hurry up. As soon as they reached the rest of the group, skipping over
the unconscious Death Eaters, everybody hurried up to retrace their steps back to the tunnel where
they came from. They had already entered the maze of hallways when they heard more running
footsteps from within the last room they had been.

“I hear more of them coming behind us,” Harry said anxiously. “They might be going for the
portal room…”

“If we go deeper back through where we came, they will lose us,” Hal said confidently, though he
took up the pace.

Hal was right - it was easy to get lost in the labyrinth of pathways and soon Harry didn't
hear anything from behind them at all. They had slipped away into relative safety, and for the
first time since it all started Harry had breathed a sigh of relief. But it wasn't over
yet.

That was just the start and they still had to fight their way out to reach the portal wherever
it was, if indeed Bruce hadn't managed to place it near where they wanted. Harry then thought
it was entirely possible that the Death Eaters had discovered the open portal and were already
guarding it. That would make their last encounter out of the portal room seem like a walk in the
park.

At last they had reached the hole to the tunnels from where they came and hoping the Death
Eaters had not found it yet, they all entered it. They had all survived this dangerous task minus
one of them.

The trip back to the rendezvous point in the tunnels took some more time but the good thing was
that they hadn't encountered any Death Eaters who would've investigated the tunnels along
the way. When Hal and company had reached it, several anxious looking scientists cheered upon
seeing them. Harry and Hermione settled down to sit on the ground to take a short breather.

“We thought you didn't make it,” an anxious looking scientist told Hal. “We were getting
very worried…”

“We met some resistance on the way back,” Hal told them. “Kelly Martin's dead.”

Everyone went silent and it was deafening. Harry thought that their fallen colleague was pretty
popular around with the guys. He didn't know how that would affect their morale.

“He fought bravely,” Hal added. “We had to leave him to get back to you - I was pretty worried I
can't reach you. It looked like it we couldn't, but thanks to Harry and Hermione here with
their magic, we've succeeded in opening the portal and we've escaped.”

Despite their feeling of loss for their friend Martin, all the scientists clapped their hands in
applause and appreciation for Harry and Hermione. Harry, however, craned his neck to look for any
sign of Willard - he wasn't around.

“The diversionary team had not checked in yet,” reported a scientist. “I don't think they
made it…”

Harry and Hermione looked at each other with deepening concern.

Hal looked extremely disappointed. He looked at his watch and said, “We can't wait for them
any longer. We must move out and fight our way out now or the portal closes in less than twenty
minutes, I reckon. The Death Eaters, I assume, have already found it and they'd be guarding it
heavily. They probably know why the portal's open, and they might be ready for us. That's
the worse case, and we can't afford to be complacent. We have to be ready to fight.”

Hal then looked at Harry slowly who looked very upset. “Harry, you know we must - and we need
your help with this. I'm sorry about Willard, but without you…and Hermione's
magic…we're all going to perish before we go within a few feet of the portal. Can we count on
you once more?”

Harry tightened his lips. He strongly wished Willard could join them; Harry didn't want to
leave him yet but Hal really needed all the magic he could get to escort all of the scientists out
to freedom. Careful not to let Hal notice his reluctance, he nodded his head.

“Thank you, Harry,” he said, smiling and putting a hand on his shoulder. “You and Hermione had
done very well back there beyond my highest expectations. I hope you both still have the strength
for the next stage.”

“Yeah, we're ready to help you as much as we can,” Hermione assured, standing up from the
ground at last for another round. She looked at Harry next and said, “Are we, Harry?”

“That's right,” he replied.

Hal nodded gratefully and turned back to his men. “I'm telling the truth that my foremost
concern now is to take all of you out through the portal - even if I die in the process. But
I'm afraid that some of us might not make it. The portal wasn't where I planned it to be -
it's been moved back a hundred meters or so from out of our exit hole but it will still be
visible from where we'll end up ahead.”

Almost all of the scientists groaned in disappointment and growing unease.

“We only have to run a little farther to reach it, and fight towards it if necessary,” Hal went
on. “I'm very, very sorry about this. We should've done better. But we mustn't blame
Bruce for not putting it near our starting point because the pressure was just too high for him to
produce the portal back at the portal room. For a man who's almost a Squib, it's a very
remarkable feat for him to operate the orb.”

“Yeah!” shouted a scientist at the back, and everybody roared in agreement.

Hal breathed and looked around all the men in front of him. “I just want to take this precious
opportunity to tell you that it's been great working with you all. Thank you for agreeing to go
against You-Know-Who and trusting me to be your leader. It's been a privilege to serve you.
Good luck, everyone, and God speed. Meet you all at the other side…”

Everyone gave Hal a thunderous cheer, and they beat the end of their spears and clubs on the
ground to reiterate their desire to break free from Voldemort's slavery and to signify their
tremendous appreciation for Hal's efforts to facilitate their escape. Tears of pride then fell
from Hal's eyes, which Harry had spotted.

Harry and Hermione felt goose bumps - it was a very touching and morale-boosting scene for both
of them. They both kissed and hugged each other for good luck.

Harry then offered Hal a handshake and he took it happily. “It's been a pleasure fighting
alongside you, Hal,” Harry said.

“The feelings mutual,” he replied. “You're sounding that this is the end for us - I beg you
please - don't,” he said, grinning.

Harry nodded and laughed. “Of course!”

Hal looked back and his men and whirled a finger up in the air. “Let's roll!”

All the scientists cheered again, and they now held their crude weapons with both hands. Bruce
climbed up the ladder and looked down at Hal for his signal. Hal nodded, and Bruce pounded the
wooden plank on top of him loose.

Harry volunteered to be the first one to get out after Bruce, and when he got to the ground
floor up above, he looked around for any sign of Death Eaters. There weren't any. He beckoned
Hal to come climb up the ladder quickly.

“Go, go!” Hal said to his men, and one by one the scientists went up the ladder and out of the
hole.

Harry noticed that they were now in a wide, long hall with a very high ceiling. The hall was lit
by torch lights mounted on the stone masonry walls and some chandeliers. He surmised this was
situated at the center of Xanthius, though there were no doors leading to any other room except for
two large access ways at each end of the hallway. The access way behind him was closed by a single
wooden barrier of the same size, but the far end was open. A little beyond that lay the portal, a
green glowing cavity of physical space, shimmering at a single room at end of the far access way.
It was waiting for them to cross it.

Again Harry found it strange this part of the fortress was devoid of Death Eaters, but he hoped
at the same time that were truly alone and that everyone can escape without any encounter. It took
a few minutes for everyone to get out of the tunnel hole. Hermione was one of the last to set foot
on the ground floor with Hal bringing up the rear. Harry walked over to Hermione and they both held
hands.

“So far so good,” Hal said quietly, looking around. “No sign of Death Eaters around - that's
good. There's the portal. Let's go…”

Hal started to walk towards the portal, which was still about a hundred or so meters away from
their position. Harry, Hermione, and the rest of the scientists followed his lead while on a
careful lookout for any ambushes. They had walked almost a quarter of the length of the large
hallway. Harry looked around and still saw no sign of any life aside from theirs.

“So far so good,” Hal said.

Harry didn't believe the Death Eaters would just let them walk out of here.

“Just a few meters more…”

Harry's hunch was right.

Suddenly, about fifteen masked Death Eaters appeared and blocked their path between them and the
portal. Hal and his group stopped on their tracks and stared at the Death Eaters. They had to fight
their way through after all. The bad thing was, they still had to cover three fourths of the
hallway's length to get to the finish line and they were all dangerously exposed.

All the Death Eaters raised their wands in unison and pointed them towards Hal's poorly
armed men. Harry and Hermione breathed heavily, and they both got ready to move at Hal's
signal.

A few silent and tense seconds passed, and Hal bellowed, “CHARGE!!!”

Every one in Hal's little army roared a battle cry and sprinted towards the Death Eaters
with their spears pointed out. Harry and Hermione charged along with them with their wands
pointed.

The first volley of curses from the Death Eaters came zapping towards them, and quite a number
of scientists fell. For the few who weren't hit, including Hal, Bruce, Harry, and Hermione,
they kept charging. They didn't look back for their fallen friends, and they picked up more
speed. There was still time for the Death Eaters to shoot more curses; Harry and Hermione
anticipated their next volley and conjured a double shield halfway between them and the Death
Eaters to try to protect everybody.

Most of the curses from the Death Eaters bounced off the temporary shield - they ricocheted
within the enclosed space on their side and some of their curses hit a couple or so of the Death
Eaters squarely, putting them out of action instantly. But then they shot a few different spells
against Harry and Hermione's shield and it shattered.

As soon as the shield broke Harry sent out a few disarmament spells to the Death Eaters and he
managed to snatch away a couple of wands from their owners. Hermione, meanwhile, snapped a stunning
spell at one, catching him and rendering him unconscious. The few remaining Death Eaters now
didn't seem to know what to do and fired at will to the fast approaching wave of scientists,
knocking out some. Harry was thankful they hadn't chosen him and Hermione who were more of a
threat to them.

They had almost finally closed the gap and spears were now sent flying. Quite a few met their
marks, three more had fallen, and the ranks of the Death Eaters were beginning to fight back in
panic - their spells were now getting pretty inaccurate. A Death Eater picked Harry as a target,
but fortunately Harry dodged the spell within inches just in time and it flew off behind him
harmlessly.

“*Flipendo Tria*!” Harry shouted, and the Death Eater who had thrown a curse at him earlier
flew back by the force of the triple spell and he disappeared through the portal.

A few deadly curses flew and few more scientists fell to the ground, but that was the last of
the Death Eaters ranged attacks. At last, Hal's little army had broken through and a melee
ensued!

Almost all of the Death Eaters tried to fight off thrusts of spear attacks desperately with
limited magic. With too much to handle they fell back, and most of them had already been stabbed,
dropping their wands from the intense pain of spears through their bodies, rendering them unable to
fend off more attacks. The scientists vented their anger on them and showed them no mercy. A few
explosions were heard, but that was a merely desperate move from the beleaguered Death Eaters to
fend off the relentless attack of the scientists but also affected them negatively.

Hermione had been chosen by an unfettered Death Eater to a duel. Her electrical whip met the
Death Eater's own with a zapping noise. She struggled to hold off the Death Eater's own
whip to reach her - he was very strong for her that she was gradually being forced to the
ground!

“Harry!!!” she yelled to him for help.

Harry, who had just knocked out an unarmed Death Eater on the floor with his bare fists, ran up
and tackled Hermione's enemy from behind, releasing the locked spell. Hal then came out from
nowhere and clobbered the hapless Death Eater with a club he had picked up from the ground. Hal
refused to hear the Death Eater's pleas for him to stop, and killed him without remorse.

“*Stupefy!*” Hermione bellowed at another Death Eater who was about to curse Harry from
behind before she could thank him. Soon they all heard the sound of the fighting die down, and all
that were left standing were a few dozen shaken scientists. Almost all of the Death Eaters that had
tried to massacre them were dead - the rest knocked out by stunning spells and bloodied by being
bashed by enormous clubs. Hal and his men had successfully reached the portal but at a heavy price.
More than half of wizardkind's brilliant potion masters captured by Voldemort have been
killed.

Hermione's legs collapsed and she sat down directly on the cold stone floor, shaking. She
looked around the carnage. She couldn't believe what she was seeing. She had never seen this
many dead people around in her life at one time, and she felt sorry for the dead scientists who,
just a few minutes ago, desired nothing else but to break free from Voldemort's captivity. At
the same moment she felt relieved she and Harry weren't one of the dead - a random curse would
have ended their lives in an instant. She looked around for him. Harry also looked spent - he was
staring at the dead bodies that lay around him. He might also have been feeling the same thing as
her.

Soon, there eyes met. Without saying anything they both ran towards each other and they embraced
very tightly for comfort, grateful they were both all right.

“We'd better not linger,” a sorrowful Hal said to everyone after a minute or so of
recovering himself. “I'm feeling deep regret for our fallen friends, but we can't do
anything for them anymore. All the survivors, please, I ask you to cross the portal now or all our
losses will be for naught. You'll end up in Hogsmeade - go and ask for care when you get
there…”

The few surviving scientists started to queue to cross the portal. One of them fell behind and
lifted a couple of lifeless bodies from the heap and carried them on both his shoulders before he
crossed.

Hal came to him and said, “You don't have to do that, Casey…”

“Please, Hal,” Casey replied. “They were my best friends,” he cried.

Hal sighed, bowed his head, and whispered “Okay”.

“I-I can't leave them here - even if they're gone,” Casey said to no one in particular,
walking slowly toward the portal.

“I understand,” Hal whispered.

Harry breathed, and he now seemed preoccupied with something in his mind.

When the last scientist departed, Hal walked to Harry. “It's really - hard - for a leader to
lose even just one of his men,” he sniffed. “I feel responsible for them,” Hal added, looking on
sadly at the dead scientists…”

“It's not your fault, Hal,” Hermione said softly. “You did you best to lead them out of here
- I think if they had a different leader none of us would've made it.”

Hal smiled at her, though he was still teary eyed. “Thanks, Hermione. But I'm sure I'll
still have sleepless nights ahead of me…”

A stunned Death Eater stirred, and Bruce immediately walloped him on the floor with a large club
- Harry and Hermione didn't know if he killed him. Bruce merely shrugged at them.

“Oh, I think we better go,” Hal said. “There might be more of them coming…After you, Harry and
Hermione.”

Harry looked at Hermione for a moment and then back to Hal. “Uhm, I think I'll stay…I still
have to do something important here…”

Hal was taken a little aback. “I'm sorry?” he said. “But this is now your opportunity to
walk out of here alive, Harry.”

“What is it, Harry?” Hermione asked.

Harry hesitated for a moment and said “I'm sorry, Hermione, but Willard is still somewhere
in this fortress. I-I just can't leave him behind. I owe it to him. He also has someone very
important…someone who could be the only one who could help our side defeat the serum of Voldemort.
Francs Girbeaux.”

Hermione groaned a bit. Harry had the unpleasant habit of always trying to be the hero - even to
risk his own life for it. They had fought hard and risked being killed to reach the portal, and now
that they have, Harry was now unwilling to cross it without Willard. They were almost back to
freedom, and he's risking being captured - or worse, killed - by Voldemort, again. Hermione
knew she could not let Harry go alone even if that meant they'll have to expose themselves to
more danger.

She, however, now understood how Harry felt about Willard, and it was one proof of Harry's
loyalty to anyone he cared for, including her. Additionally, she also understood the importance of
saving Francs, not just because she would directly benefit with his work against the serum, but for
the good of wizardkind as well. If it was Harry's wish to go back to try to find Willard, he
had her full support. She was ready and willing to be one with him.

At last she nodded at him. “I'm going back with you,” she said.

“Please, Hermione,” Harry said. “You don't have to - you have to get out of here. I can do
this alone. I don't want you to get hurt anymore.”

“Neither do I!” she said. “Didn't we just agree to stay with each other no matter what
happens? If you go, I go. Stay, and I'll stay. No more arguments, Harry.”

Harry considered her statement for a moment. Remembering his word and seeing Hermione cannot be
forced to escape without him, he nodded.

“Are you sure about this, both of you?” Hal asked. “I have to tell you as an elder I'm
against your decision to forego this portal and I have the responsibility to take you both to
safety - the portal will die out in less than ten minutes. If you can't make it back here
before that, you'll have to fight to get to the portal room again, which I'm sure is now
heavily guarded.”

Harry and Hermione both said “yes”, making Hal exhale deeply.

“Okay,” he said. “I respect your decision - to me you are mature enough to know the risks. Here,
have the map. This will help you not to get lost. I'm very sorry if I can't go with you if
I wanted to - I can't abandon my men. It's my duty to look after them and they still need
me.”

Harry took the map gratefully and said, “Thank you, Hal. You know, I admit I had serious doubts
about your men, but I was wrong and I was impressed by their bravery. You're a good leader,
Hal.”

“Thank you, Harry, for those kind words,” Hal said proudly. “But you should know that without
both your precious help, none of us would have reached this point. Even the best leader is no good
if his men are lesser than him. I'll wait for you at the other side, and I'm praying for
you. Be careful and good luck.”

Harry and Hermione nodded at him again with thanks, and they set back out for Willard and
Francs. Hal didn't want to cross the portal until he saw the last of Harry and Hermione; he
looked at them seriously and sighed while they ran off.

Harry and Hermione had now gotten back in the tunnel through the hole on the floor, and they
retraced their steps back to the underground cave. Harry opened the map while they walked to
navigate through the tunnels. While he did, he glanced back at Hermione and said, “You know I'm
still really against letting you join me…”

“And I'm against leaving you to yourself looking for Willard and Francs,” she interrupted.
“Please, Harry, we've already talked about this, and there's no point in arguing about it
now. I have to help you whether you like it or not…Besides, I'm doing this because…because I
love you.”

“Thanks,” Harry smiled gratefully and Hermione smiled back at him. “All I'm asking from you
now is to please be careful…”

“Likewise, Harry…”

They have reached the former secret hideout of Hal. Harry remembered the tunnel where Willard
had disappeared to look for Francs, and he and Hermione naturally took it. The map showed that they
wouldn't get lost - there was only a single tunnel leading to the dungeons. The tunnel was
narrow and with a low ceiling, suggesting that this was dug for the purpose of escaping the
dungeons to the underground caves. It was ironic that it was used again by Willard and his
companions to get back there.

They both walked - rather, crouched - toward the entrance to the dungeons with wands out. Harry
and Hermione felt their leg muscles strain being bent almost double all the way. It took them a
little more than a quarter hour to reach the end of the tunnel where the dungeons could be
accessed. If Hal was right about the portal, Harry, thought, then by this time it was gone. But
that didn't stop Harry from hoping Hal was wrong.

Sometimes they had to magically remove a few dead bodies of Death Eaters along the way who were
victims of Hal's ingenious and deadly traps. Harry and Hermione couldn't handle the stench
of death wafting along the tunnel, but they knew they had to hold on to their guts to pass by them
to reach the dungeons.

When Harry guessed that they were at the end of the tunnels and were about to climb out of the
hole the scientists had dug, he said to Hermione, “Be ready for anything…”

Hermione nodded and gripped her wand tighter.

Harry popped his head out of the floor and looked around. They were in a prison cell, perhaps
the same place they had been when they were brought in here by the Death Eater Burton. It was
apparently abandoned. Harry slowly climbed up to the floor and gave Hermione a hand to help her up
from the hole.

“What do we do now?” Hermione said, her eyes scanning around the place. Her face was shiny with
sweat and specks of dirt littered parts of her cheeks.

Harry put a finger on his lips and signaled Hermione to follow him. They both emerged from the
cell (the iron cell door was open, and it looked like it was blown up with a small bomb) and
proceeded to the open door leading out of what was apparently the prison wing of this fortress.
There were other cells on both sides of this wing and they were all empty.

When they were out of the prison wing, they found some steep stone steps that lead further
downwards. They had no other place to go but to follow it and down they went. They had walked down
the steps about fifty or so meters when the stairs ended and the floor had leveled off straight to
a long and narrow passageway with a lone steel door at the end.

“More tunnels,” Harry hissed.

Along the way they found a couple of bodies sprawled on the floor; Hermione checked on one of
them and turned him over. She jerked back when the lifeless and bloodied face of one of the
scientists came staring straight at her.

“Take it easy, Hermione,” Harry said.

“I'm sorry, Harry,” she breathed. “But I saw this man earlier today - he's one of the
scientists who went along with Willard…”

Harry stared at the dead body for a while and he felt something probably went wrong with
Willard's group and that's why they hadn't returned at all. However, that didn't
stop him from hoping that Willard might still be alive, and that he was still somewhere around and
he needed to be rescued. “Let's go,” he said. “Keep an eye out for trouble…”

They both kept close to the walls when they walked the length of the narrow passageway. After a
little while, Harry and Hermione had gotten to the foot of the lone door at the end. Harry pressed
his ears to try to listen what was outside, but he didn't hear anything. Perhaps it was because
the door was made of steel.

“Shall we open it?” Hermione asked him quietly. Harry nodded and he turned on the knob, which
was fortunately unlocked. He slowly opened the door (Hermione pointed her wand up ahead), and they
both gasped when they saw several bodies strewn around in a large steel-walled room with more
stairs leading somewhere on each side. The bodies were both of the scientists and Death Eaters who
looked like they had a very deadly fight in this room earlier. A large black dog the size of a bull
lay dead at the center of the room, which Harry knew as one of Voldemort's feared hybrids.

Hermione closed her eyes and squinted at the sight of the carnage. She felt she could never get
used to seeing such horrifying results of extreme acts of violence in her life. There was one
person that caught her eye who was actually still breathing and sitting up at the far corner.

It was Willard. He was badly injured but was holding a broken spear as if he was still expecting
an attack.

“Willard!” Hermione exclaimed, and she and Harry ran towards him. They both stopped and dropped
to one knee on both sides of Willard.

“Willard - you look hurt!” Harry said, not knowing if it was okay to touch him.

“H-Harry…Hermione…” he groaned. “What're you two doing back here?”

“We came back for you,” Harry replied. “Hal and most of the others had escaped, but you
hadn't…what happened here?”

“T-Terrible,” Willard shuddered. “Ambushed by Death Eaters and the black dog…I killed the black
dog…” Willard looked slightly traumatized, but he was thinking straight. “There might be more
coming…”

“We'll get you out of here, Willard, come on,” Harry told him. He and Hermione grabbed both
of his hands and got ready to put his arms around their shoulders.

“Harry - a Death Eater has Francs,” Willard rasped at him. “Please, you got to stop him from
killing Francs - he's the only hope for the anti-serum…”

“Where'd they go?”

Willard pointed at the stairway to his right. “They haven't been gone long - if you hurry
you might still catch them…”

“O-Okay, you sit tight,” Harry said. “Hermione, please stand guard for Willard while I go after
for Francs…”

“What?”

“Please, Hermione, don't argue with me this time,” Harry implored her. “Willard's
completely vulnerable alone in this condition. He needs your protection.”

Hermione nodded reluctantly and said, “Okay, be careful, Harry - if you don't come back in
five minutes I'll go looking for you…”

“Okay, fine,” he said. “I'll be back.” Harry left Hermione with Willard and ran down on the
stairs. Whoever was bleeding, he had left a trail of blood this way. Harry chose not to tread
carefully knowing that each second counted for the life of Francs Girbeaux, and he ran full out
through the passageway.

After a couple of minutes running, he heard running water as he neared the end of the
passageway. He felt the air cool for every step he took, and Harry surmised he must be heading to
another underground cave with a river in another part of the fortress. Then he heard someone
pleading for his life up ahead.

Soon he saw the end of the passageway. Beyond it was a long stone bridge crossing towards a far
wall of a large cave to the mouth of another tunnel, lighted with a gloomy blue hue. At the center
of the bridge was a lone Death Eater manhandling a white robed man that Harry bet was Francs
Girbeaux. He was a petite, balding, and aged man, and he looked powerless against the Death Eater
who seemed about to throw him down from the bridge.

“You have no use to the Dark Lord now, Girbeaux,” growled the Death Eater, holding the shaking
Francs by the collar. “You've lost your usefulness - we have all we need to know about the
serum, and you've been working on an antidote, I hear…”

“No, No - please don't kill me!” Francs pleaded.

“Let him go, Death Eater!!!” Harry shouted when he alighted out of the mouth of the passageway,
his wand pointed at him.

The Death Eater slowly looked over his shoulder to Harry and grinned. It was Peter Burton. “So,
we meet again, Harry Potter,” he wheezed. “About the play the hero again as you always do, I
presume?”

“This is the end of the line for you, Burton,” Harry told him angrily. “Surrender Francs to me
or I'll curse you!”

Burton laughed out loud. “You? Curse me?” he guffawed. “And risk killing this little man I know
has the answer to make your little precious Hermione well again?”

Harry narrowed his eyes at Burton. He didn't like it being taunted about Hermione. “I warn
you, Burton!” he pressed.

Burton heaved Francs up and dangled him dangerously out of the bridge. Harry was caught off
guard and he didn't dare to curse him or else Francs would fall down to his death. He looked
over the side of the bridge and saw that they were hundreds of feet above a rampaging rocky river.
Francs yelled and flapped his feet in fright.

“I demand you take him back over the bridge, Burton!” Harry shouted. “Now!”

“Or what? Curse me again?” he laughed. “You, Potter, are not in a position to offer me a choice.
How about this…you have five seconds to drop your wand and surrender to me, or I let go of this
scientist you find so important.”

Harry shifted uncomfortably on his spot.

“Five…”

“Take him back over the bridge now!!!” Harry yelled.

Burton grinned. “Four…”

“I'll curse you!”

“Three…”

Harry was at a loss on what to do next. He hoped Burton was bluffing, but he knew it was now him
who was at a disadvantage. He knew he needed Francs to stay alive - or Voldemort will have free
reign with his new weapon.

“Two…”

Harry quickly put his wand on the bridge's floor.

Burton laughed. “You're so weak, Potter. Thank you for heeding my warning, but I changed my
mind…say goodbye to your only hope against the Dark Lord's wonderful serum…”

To Harry's horror, Burton let go of his hold of Francs. Like in slow motion, Harry watched
the scientist begin to plummet to his death. Burton then had drawn out his wand to point it to
Harry.

Harry didn't know what he was thinking and did something really crazy. He bent down, grabbed
his wand from the surface, and dove recklessly after Francs who was already twenty feet down ahead
of him! Burton's curse missed him for a few inches.

Harry plunged after Francs, and he pointed his wand towards his falling target.

“*Carpe Retractum*!” he shouted. A long cord jutted out of his wand and caught Francs
around his torso. “*Retracto*!” Harry said next, and the cord retracted, pulling Francs
towards him as he had expected the spell to do. Harry caught Francs tightly in midair with his left
arm and he immediately let go of his spell.

Still plunging towards the river below, Harry struggled to look up to find the bridge up above
him. It was fast breaking away from him, the long span looking thinner with his sight as he kept
falling. He had only one chance for this; he fought extreme pressure to do this right - Harry aimed
at the bridge very carefully and grunted “*Carpe Retractum*!”

Another long cord jetted up from his wand and it seemed to take forever to reach the bridge up
above. While the cord kept on extending, Harry began to worry that this spell had a limited range
that he didn't know of.

“C'mon!” he prayed, glancing down to the fast approaching river below. Soon, he felt a soft
tug on his arm - his spell had successfully grappled the bridge! Like hanging on a bungie cord, he
floated up and down with Francs along with the elasticity of the spell; Francs had gone down a few
inches of his grip with Harry and was holding on to him for dear life. It was lucky for them
Harry's gambit had worked; they had gone almost within a hundred down to the river below. Harry
let out a huge sigh of relief. He vowed to himself never to do something crazy like this ever
again.

Soon, the long cord relaxed to a stop, and Harry looked down on a pale-faced Francs. “You all
right, sir?”

“Yes, son,” he whimpered. “Th-thanks for that!”

“This isn't over yet,” Harry told him. “Better hang on tight!”

Francs nodded vigorously back at him and tightened his hold on Harry. Luckily, he was lighter
than Harry, but the strain on Harry's arms holding Francs and the wand were now took a toll on
him. Harry knew he had to act fast to get back to the bridge before he could not hold on to his
wand anymore.

He looked up and said, “*Retracto*!” He felt another tug and the cord began to retract
rapidly. Harry felt he was now elevating back up to the bridge with Francs. He knew Burton might be
still be there waiting for them, so he got ready for him.

Soon they had reached the bridge and Harry struggled to heave Francs back to the surface. It was
very difficult to do. Francs knew Harry was losing strength, and he used Harry to climb back toward
the bridge's surface and pulled him in. Harry had just barely gotten back on top of the bridge
when Burton was on top of him.

“*Crucio*!”

Burton had cursed Harry from behind before he could stand up. Harry screamed from the
excruciating pain brought about by the curse. Francs frantically crawled away from the screaming
Harry, his face contorting in terror.

Burton was laughing like a madman while he kept on cursing Harry. “Suffer, Potter, suffer!”
Burton cackled. Then he let go of the curse.

Harry shook all over as he struggled to regain his footing to face Burton and fight back.

“I see you made a very risky decision back there,” Burton told him while Harry fumbled for his
wand on the bridge. “I'm impressed by your boldness, Harry. You really want your lovely friend
to break free, don't you? *Crucio*!”

Harry dropped his wand again before he could raise it, and it rolled dangerously close to the
edge of the bridge. He slumped back on the surface to absorb the next round of the Cruciatus Curse.
Burton let go of the curse again and approached Harry slowly.

“I've gotten already tired of this little curse,” Burton said lazily. “I didn't know it
would ever get so boring. But I'd never miss the chance to do the killing curse any time,
especially on you, Harry Potter. Say goodbye to your life, then…”

Harry looked up at Burton in horror - the Death Eater's wand was now pointed straight at
him. Burton's eyes went as wide as it could get with glee; he gave Harry a last smirk and
muttered “*Avada*…”

Suddenly a spear came out of nowhere and went through Burton heart's in front of him!
Dropping his chant and realizing what had happened, Burton stared at the spear for in disbelief for
a moment and looked ahead of him with horrified eyes. He saw something fast coming towards him
(Harry didn't know what it was since he didn't take a look back) and while he desperately
gasped for air, he muttered another curse at his unknown attacker. His wand had fired, and Harry
heard a grunt from behind him. Soon, Burton's assailant had skipped over Harry, grabbed Burton
by the robes, and pushed the Death Eater over the railings!

Burton plummeted from up the bridge down to the river below to his death.

Harry rolled upright and then he found out who had attacked Burton, and saved his life. It was
Hal Rodd, and he lay flat on his chest. Harry crawled over to Hal quickly and rolled him over.

“Hal!”

Hal's breath was uneven. His eyes looked glassy, and he rolled it towards Harry. He looked
like at the brink of death. “H-Harry,” he coughed. “You okay?”

“I-I'm fine…but you're hurt!”

“I'm glad to know you're okay…I came back for you or else you would've died from
that Death Eater,” he smiled weakly.

“Hal, please don't talk - hold on…we'll take you out of here…”

Hal shook his head. “P-please don't - I will only slow you down. Is Francs (cough)
alive?”

“Hello, Hal,” Francs said slowly, coming over to him.

Hal smiled broadly when he saw Francs. “Th-That's good. Please do the anti-serum when you
get out of here, will you?”

Francs nodded and said, “I will, Hal, I will…”

“H-Harry,” Hal said next, his breathing getting choppier.

Harry took his hand and grasped it. “Yes, Hal…”

Hal smiled quickly and concentrated on getting what he wanted to say before he passed away.
“Please tell my men…when you escape…that I'm sorry I didn't come to them…tell them I-I had
to go back, for Francs and the good of wizardkind…Willard was right - Francs needed to be saved…our
hopes to defeat You-Know-Who's weapon is on his hands…It's been an honor fighting alongside
you, Harry…”

“I'm blessed to have known you, Hal,” Harry said sadly, starting to weep.

“H-Harry, please…Tell my men, I'm very happy many of them survived. T-tell them I'm
sorry I didn't do all I can to prevent the deaths of their friends…tell them not to worry about
me…T-Tell them…T-tell them I've found my freedom…in death…” Hal breathed his last, and his eyes
closed for the last time.

Harry yelled with the death of Hal. He had learned how to respect him after being awed by his
leadership, but now he was dead.

Francs put a hand over Harry's shoulder and shook it gently. “C'mon, Harry,” Francs
whispered. “There's nothing we can do.”

Harry looked back to the passageway with tears in his eyes, and he saw Hermione supporting
Willard by holding his arm around her shoulder at the end of the bridge, looking back tearfully at
him.

“H-Harry,” Hermione cried. “I'm at a loss on what to say for Hal…” She left Willard then ran
towards Harry, fixed his face and hair with her hands for a moment, and embraced him.

Harry sniffed and hugged her, feeling thankful for her effort to comfort him. He knew she was
grateful for Hal by saving his life, and understood she felt that he didn't need to die.
Willard sighed and gestured with his head that they still needed to keep moving.

Harry refused to leave Hal's body behind in respect for his sacrifice to save his life. He,
therefore, carried him over his shoulder. There was a time to regret his loss, and Harry knew they
still had to get out of the dungeons to get to the portal in time - if it was still there.

Slowly they went back to the battle site where Harry had the portal was still at. Francs and
Hermione both supported Willard with his arms over their shoulders while Harry brought up the
front. Hermione kept glancing concernedly at Harry; Harry often assured her without saying any
words that he was all right.

Finally they had gotten out of the hole from under the ground back to the main fortress hallway.
There were no signs of new Death Eaters, and Harry felt relieved the portal was still up where he
left it because they had taken more than twenty minutes to find Francs and Willard and bring them
back. The portal was supposed to disappear minutes ago according to Hal.

“My Lord…Did this really happen here?” Willard said, struck at the sight of the bloodbath
brought about by the battle for the portal.

Harry nodded to him. Fearing that the portal might really disappear for real any moment, Harry
said to everyone, “C'mon, let's move double time to the portal.”

“Harry, what do we do when the Death Eaters'll block the way to the portal again?” Hermione
asked anxiously.

“No choice but to fight,” Harry simply replied.

Hermione and Francs nodded and took up the pace as they grunted against Willard's weight.
Harry looked around for new threats - his shoulder was getting tired from carrying Hal's
lifeless body, but he didn't mind. In a few minutes they'll be out of Xanthius and back to
Hogsmeade.

Almost halfway to the portal, Harry heard a rumbling noise and felt the floor underneath them
vibrate. They all stopped on their tracks and looked around.

“Harry - w-what's happening?” Hermione said, looking scared.

“I don't know,” he replied nervously. He thought of looking back from where they came from
and that was where he found the answer to the question.

The large wooden barrier behind them rose up to the ceiling. Soon, hundreds of imps like the
ones Harry had fled from the last time he was here with Ron and Ginny crawled slowly towards them,
their large red flaming eyes staring menacingly at them. Harry knew what the presence of these imps
meant.

“Oh, *hell*, no!” Harry exclaimed. “Not them!”

Both sides of the intersecting hallways closed with a big bang, shaking the ground tremendously.
They knew they had nowhere to go but straight towards the portal or else they would be run over by
the imps soon.

“H-Harry!” Hermione whimpered.

“Run,” Harry gulped.

Without warning the imps sprang off towards them, and they all went rumbling down towards Harry,
Hermione, Willard, and Francs!

“*Run*!” Harry shouted this time. “Get to the portal, quick!”

Despite the weight of Willard and Hal's lifeless body that burdened them all, they all ran
as fast as they could towards the portal. If they could reach it before the imps were all over
them, they could get out of here alive.

“Don't look back!” Hermione panted. She struggled to run as fast as she can while carrying
half of Willard's weight with Francs. Willard didn't heed her advice and looked over his
shoulder.

The imps at the back of the horde scaled the walls to go in front of the pack, and they were
dangerously gaining on them. Willard fought the pain on his legs to give Hermione and Francs a much
needed boost by skipping his foot on the ground. Harry was losing breath, and he desperately shot a
few spells behind his back.

“*Repulso*! *Repulso*!” he cried, and a few imps yelped when they got hit that sent
them flying off backwards. But Harry knew that was doing too little - there were hundreds behind
them. Up to now he never thought of a way to deal with Voldemort's frightening imps.

Still, they ran for dear life. Judging by their speed against the nimble imps, Harry thought
they would've been swamped by them right now, but strangely they haven't been yet. After a
few more running steps, they were almost a few feet to the portal. Just a little more pain and they
would be safe on the other side…

However, when they got within ten meters from the portal, the floor beneath them opened in two,
sending Harry, Hermione, Francs and Willard down a floor level from the ground and onto a very
large pit!

Hermione yelped in surprise; they all collapsed down to the floor from the shock of their
landing. Harry shook his head and looked up - the imps were now looking down on them but strangely
they didn't jump down into the pit to finish them off. They just shrieked loudly above them and
jostled for a ringside view of Harry, Hermione, Willard, and Francs who all looked dazed from the
sudden fall.

“*Expelliarmus*!” a voice exploded from somewhere in the pit. Harry and Hermione's wand
flew off and landed on the floor a few yards away from them.

Hermione screamed loudly when she looked behind her.

“Like scared mice in a trap,” Lucius drawled, pointing his wand at Harry and Hermione. About
twenty members of Voldemort's top circle of Death Eaters including McNair, Crabbe, Goyle,
Dolohov, Avery, Bellatrix Lestrange, and the ever-excited Wormtail grinned at them, also aiming
their wands in a sinister way.

“Thanks for being where we want you all to be, Potter,” taunted Lucius. “I knew you'd still
walk straightly towards the portal even after what you've gone through up there earlier - but I
just wanted to make sure you did by releasing my imps. One sudden move among any of you and
you're all *dead*.”

-o0o-

Chapter 21 coming soon.

*A/N* *Thank you for your continued interest with this story!* *Please kindly leave
a review. Thanks!*

-->



22. The Twin Pendants of Omerta
-------------------------------



*Thanks, Scott and Lady Blazey, for your reviews! I really appreciate it. (smiling
broadly).*

**Chapter 21**

**The** **Twin Pendants of Omerta**

Hermione stood up from the floor, moved towards Harry, and clung unto him at the same time as
Lucius and the Death Eaters looked upon them dangerously with mixed expressions. Some looked
satisfied with their catch while the others were obviously angry with them.

“Let's kill them now!” Bellatrix Lestrange laughed, sounding much like a small girl. “Oh,
they look sooo scared!”

“Not now, Bellatrix. You'll have your chance later on - I promise you that,” Lucius replied
to her, not taking his eyes off Harry. “But if they make a sudden move, you can do whatever you
want with them.”

Bellatrix cackled with delight. “Eenie, Meeny, Miney, Mo! Mo, Miney, Meeny, Weeny-Weeny!” she
said, picking Harry, Hermione, Willard and Francs with her wand excitedly and hopped on her spot
with glee.

Harry, Hermione, Willard, and Francs were outnumbered five to one in the gloomy pit. It was
Harry's habit to often look for a way out of a bad situation - he observed that the only
apparent exit was a small opening behind the Death Eaters that connected to a set of stairs going
up. It was probably where the Death Eaters might have entered to the pit to wait for them to fall
into their trap. He didn't know where it went to and he believed it was not worth the risk to
try to break through the phalanx of Death Eaters. The one other exit in sight was the open trapdoor
above them, but the imps made it an undesirable choice and climbing up there was not a good idea.
They absolutely had nowhere to go now.

Since Harry and Hermione were rendered wandless, Lucius felt free to stroll around his
prisoners. Hermione hid behind Harry and peeked over his shoulder to watch Lucius.

“You've caused so many problems for us already, Potter,” Lucius said angrily. “The Dark Lord
has never experienced this heavy of losses in terms of Death Eaters until now - quite
unprecedented.”

“They were so stupid anyway!” Harry spat bravely. “Like all Death Eaters…”

“Why, you're one bloody little pest…” McNair said, in the verge of cursing Harry. Lucius,
however, grabbed McNair's hand to turn his aim away from Harry.

Hermione tugged down Harry's robes. “Harry, please don't…” she pleaded behind him.

“That'll do, McNair,” Lucius said. He looked back at Harry and laughed in a single breath.
“I see your little feat with the scientists has gone to your head, Potter,” he sneered. “Still
feeling brave, aren't you? Do you even think you can take on all of us yourself?”

“Just give me my wand back and you'll find out,” Harry grunted.

The Death Eaters all hooted with laughter.

“Nice one, Potter,” Lucius scoffed. “But we'll see how fearless you will be when you meet
the Dark Lord again in a little while. He was quite happy that you went back to the dungeons
instead of jumping over that portal for good. How stupid of you - but thanks to you, you've
given us another shot on capturing you.”

The rest of the Death Eaters around the pit laughed again. Harry and Hermione snatched glances
to their faraway wands - attempting to retrieve them without being cursed was just next to
impossible.

“Quite a day today was, wasn't it?” Lucius went on. “We underestimated how those nerdy
scientists could fight against our Death Eaters. We have never imagined they'd take us on. They
were very, very lucky to break through like that and killing every one of my men in the process - a
very impressive accomplishment.”

“Those scientists escaped what was supposed to be an inescapable fortress, so this proves
Xanthius isn't what it's touted to be, is it?” Harry smirked in an attempt to get even with
Lucius with his trash talk. “If I were your *Dark Lord*, I'd chomp all your hollow heads
for that.”

“Oh, you're quite mistaken. It now doesn't matter to any of us that they've
escaped,” Lucius replied. “We now have full knowledge on how to mass-produce the serum. They would
be a liability after their work was done, anyway. Soon, we will have enough of the serum to create
paranoia in the wizard world and force our new slaves to do our bidding. What's more, nobody
will be sure who'll be their enemy anymore when the job is done. But that isn't the sole
reason why we invented the serum in the first place. He has appreciated the fact that my little
project provided the answer to his deepest desire, which he had worked hard to fulfill so many
times but failed. You don't need to know about that, of course. Anyway, don't you worry
about the escaped scientists, Potter. They're worthless to the Dark Lord now. The only person
that he wants for now is *you.*”

Harry glared at Lucius. “So if it's me that he only wants, why don't you let my friends
go? They have no use to any of you…”

“You are in no position to dictate to us what you want, Potter,” Lucius sneered. “Do you think
we'll ever let them go? Your friends will do have some use to us. Wraskon and Girbeaux will be
forced to make more of their concoctions. And your Mudblood friend, of course…you see, the Dark
Lord is extra possessive of his slaves. He has recognized her huge potential as one of his
offensive weapons, even though she's a Mudblood.”

Hermione gasped; Harry pressed her more tightly behind his back.

Willard spoke up defiantly. “I'd rather kill myself than to do dirty work for you,
Lucius!”

Lucius ignored him and kept talking to Harry. “If I had my way, Potter, I would've killed
the Mudblood already. How despicable it is to have her filth pollute the Dark Fortress, but our
master knows better than us and we will respect his wisdom. You, however, would be better off dead,
as always. As much as possible, the Dark Lord wants to kill you personally. You don't seem to
appreciate the value of the fact that the Boy-Who-Lived, who vanquished the Dark Lord once as a
baby, will end up dead in his hands after all even if you have grown as a teenager and have learned
some magic. That will destroy the myth that anyone can hurt the Dark Lord and get away with it,
won't it?”

Bellatrix shrieked with laughter while Crabbe and Goyle chortled goofily. “But don't let
that give you the idea we won't kill you when you make a bad move,” Bellatrix cackled. “Master
won't mind, will he, Lucius?”

Lucius nodded and sighed. “You should have accepted the Dark Lord's offer to join him, but
you are too proud, you refused. You've done this upon yourself, Potter. You will die soon and
you will surely turn on your grave with the suffering your friends will endure when they become
slaves again.”

Lucius turned around and called some of his Death Eaters. “Enough of this chit-chat…Molroney, go
to the portal room and tell the people there to cut the portal at once. We've held it open for
too long, but worth it.

Molrony nodded obediently. “Give me five minutes and the portal will be closed, Lucius,” he
said. The Death Eater went up the stairs and disappeared.

Cassius Wallace then spoke up. “Shall I go and inform the Dark Lord about Potter, Lucius?”

Lucius nodded. “Yes, thank you, Casius. Tell the Dark Lord that we have secured Potter and his
friends. He has been waiting for this moment.”

“So where's Voldemort now, Malfoy?” growled Harry. Most of the Death Eaters hissed loudly
when they heard their master's name. “Is he hiding behind his throne while he lets you do all
his dirty work for him?”

“How dare you speak his name, Half-blood!” Bellatrix screamed.

“Don't fret, Potter,” Lucius said, looking back at him and ignoring Bellatrix's remark.
“If it's the Dark Lord that you want, you will meet him soon enough. I know he's furious
with you for what you've done with Nagini.”

“He spoke the Dark Lord's name, Lucius!” Bellatrix reiterated. “This half-blood is so
arrogant he needs to be cursed now!”

Lucius did not answer her.

“Let's curse him!!!” she demanded.

“Then go ahead, Bellatrix,” Lucius sighed impatiently. “Curse him with your heart's desire
if you really want to do it.”

Bellatrix grinned and pointed her wand at Harry. She looked deranged, as if she was waiting for
a chance to curse anyone - Harry knew what she had in mind, and it was obvious it was the Cruciatus
Curse. Harry pushed Hermione back away from him as he braced for it.

*WHUMP!*

A loud sound, however, echoed somewhere up above them, which seem to have come from the ground
floor. Everybody looked up.

“What was that?” Lucius said. “Penrose, investigate.”

One of the Death Eaters turned on his heels and went up the stairs behind them.

The imps up above suddenly began to scream. A strong red shockwave thundered from the direction
of the portal, hitting the imps and vanishing all that was washed away with the wave. All the
remaining imps scuttled away in a panicked frenzy.

Lucius glared at Harry. “Is this one of your tricks, Potter?” he growled, pointing his wand at
him. Harry shook his head apprehensively, stepped back, and hid Hermione away from Lucius' view
very tightly.

“*Crucio*!” Bellatrix shouted, completing her desire to do the curse on Harry. Hermione
flung backwards and landed painfully down on the floor as the Cruciatus Curse's outer shell
removed her hold on him. Harry screamed in agony.

“Die with the curse!” Bellatrix shrieked. “*Die with the curse, Potter*!”

“Stop it! *Stop it!*” Hermione yelled from behind Harry.

A split second later, a bright beam from above crossed over the path of Bellatrix's own
Cruciatus Curse's, making it bounce back on her to have a taste of it herself. Several people
had jumped down from above and invaded the pit: Sirius Black, Tonks, Remus Lupin, Horace Whipple,
and the two Aurors from the Burrow namely Sydney Nettleson and Trevor Colby. Lucius and his Death
Eaters didn't have time to wonder how they had gotten to Xanthius; Sirius and the rest took no
time to send their first wave of spells against them.

Hermione's spirits rose - they were not alone anymore! “Sirius!” she shouted, helping an
aching Harry up from the floor.

“No time to talk yet, Hermione,” Sirius grunted, flinging a spell against Lucius, who had pulled
an unknown Death Eater to his front to be used for cover. The poor Death Eater shook uncontrollably
when he absorbed Sirius' attack.

It became pretty violent and chaotic inside the relatively small pit. Curses were exchanged back
and forth between the attackers and Death Eaters. Hermione ran towards her and Harry's wands,
picked them up, and tossed Harry his to join the fray. Willard, meanwhile, covered Francs with his
whole body, looking around apprehensively to avoid further injury.

A loud explosion cracked somewhere behind the Death Eater's zone, putting a few Death Eaters
out of action. Nobody knew where that came from and who did it, but this helped Sirius and his side
gain an even break in the first few critical seconds of the fight. The fighting has quickly boiled
down into individual duels; Tonks dueled McNair, Sirius with Lucius, Lupin with Avery, Nettleson
with Crabbe, and Whipple with Goyle. Hermione had chosen to fight Wormtail. Harry and Bellatrix
were both still trying to recover with the effects of the same Cruciatus Curse and they raced for
who's going to be the first one to stand up.

Lucius' maintained a threatening face while he struggled against Sirius. Neither one of them
had gained an advantage against each other; they both seemed to have matched skills. Sirius had
tried to strangle Lucius with a fiery whip, but Lucius conjured a large liquid-looking shield to
dissipate the attack. Lucius had then retaliated by conjuring a large snake towards Sirius. It was
about to pounce on Sirius when he quickly countered by summoning a wild hawk against it; it swooped
down on the hapless snake in a split second and flew off with it. Now both of them turned their
wands into blazing swords and they settled into a swordfight.

Bellatrix had beaten Harry upright, but Harry, fighting lingering pain throughout his body, had
made the first move. “*Petrificus Totalus!*” A jet of blue light hurled towards Bellatrix and
she suddenly dissapparated to avoid being hit. Over the next second she apparated right next to
Harry and kicked him at the stomach. Harry fell down on the floor on all fours and wheezed out of
breath. Bellatrix pointed her wand at his back at point blank range and said, “Cru…”

A stunning spell had hit her before she could finish the incantation and she fell down on the
floor unconscious. Harry looked around to see who had saved him from further pain; he saw Hermione
wink at him and then returned her attention back to dueling Wormtail. She seemed to be capable of
handling Pettrigrew all by herself that Harry looked around for a Death Eater to fight. He found
one in Nott, who had wiggled past many dueling wizards and was about to attack Sirius from
behind!

“*Expelliarmus*!” Harry bellowed. Nott flew backwards and landed on Horace Whipple
painfully, sending the wizard down to the floor.

Relieved from an opponent for a moment, Goyle turned to curse Harry. “*Petrificus
Totalus!*” Goyle muttered.

For the first time in his life, Harry felt what it was like to be rendered paralyzed from head
to foot. His body stiffened into full attention, and he fell down forward like a log. Harry could
not even yell in pain when several feet of dueling wizards had stomped on him.

Tonks had seen what happened to Harry from afar, ran towards him and muttered, “*Mobilus!*”
Harry felt as if his body was quickly turned into liquid and for a moment he had forgotten how to
move his limbs. Tonks turned around and was hit by a stunning spell. She then slumped to the ground
beside Bellatrix.

“Tonks!” Harry cried and he hastily fumbled for his wand to retaliate against whoever stunned
Tonks. It was McNair. Luckily he didn't choose to engage Harry after taking care of Tonks and
instead moved in to help Goyle and Nott who were now engaged in a brawl against the lone
Whipple.

“*Stupefy!*” Harry bellowed and McNair was put out of action instantly. He would have
stunned Goyle next if a large dog hadn't suddenly joined in the fight in the pit from above!
The sight of the huge beast left Harry staring at it with his jaw dropped. The Hybrid growled at
the center of the pit, trampling the auror Colby to the floor. Harry knew what the sudden
intervention of this humongous dog would do - it would turn the tide against his side soon if he
didn't do something. Sirius kept on dueling Lucius, but it was apparent he was beginning to get
distracted by the threat of the dog. The dog had found Whipple, chomped on his foot, shook him high
up in the air, and tossed him aside like a rag doll. Goyle and Nott had both cheered, but Harry
knew better than to leave them unchallenged first.

“Lartigo!” Harry said, and an electrical whip from his wand wrapped around Goyle, jolting him
out of consciousness. Lupin had already taken care of Avery and he concentrated on the huge dog in
the middle of the pit. Harry and Lupin both sent stunning spells against it, but the beams of light
from their wands only just bounced off the beast harmlessly. Lupin cursed loudly, and the dog
picked him as the next target.

Lupin ran around the pit to dodge the dog's huge mouth as it snapped dangerously close to
his back, even passing nearby Lucius Malfoy and Sirius Black, who were still busy dueling against
each other. Harry attempted a few more stunning spells against it but it had absolutely no
effect.

The dog had jumped toward Harry to try to stomp him; if Lupin had not anticipated it and
hadn't tackled Harry to the side, he would have been squashed like an orange!

“Thanks!” Harry panted, but Lupin merely nodded at him and then desperately shot all kinds of
curses against the dog, which was now gunning again for them. Harry now understood why the wizard
world seemed to have been helpless against this creature during their raids. A single Hybrid dog
was proving to be too difficult to fight, much more against a whole stampeding pack of them. Lupin
and Harry scuttled just before a paw smashed them on the ground. However, the dog had snagged Harry
by the back of his robes with his large jaw!

Harry yelled in fright as he rose up from the ground. He knew if he didn't try to do
anything to get away from this humongous dog, he was a goner. Trying hard not to drop his wand, he
hit the dog's nose with his elbow as hard and as much as he can, but he thought this didn't
probably make any difference at all. Even flashing brilliant flashes of light against its eyes
didn't do anything good. He was getting dizzy being waggled around violently, and it was only a
matter of time he'd lose consciousness. He could hear Lupin shooting his spells against the dog
in an attempt to save Harry.

Then he heard a very welcome voice he could recognize from anywhere shouting from down
below.

“Pick somebody yer own size, yeh li'l mutt!” Hagrid growled at the oversized dog. Harry
didn't know how Hagrid had gotten here, too, but he sure was late.

Harry felt the waggling stop and the dog yelped in pain. Hagrid had caught the dog in a head
lock and tried to pry Harry off its mouth by his bare hands. Soon, Harry felt he'd come loose;
he fell to the ground and Lupin caught him.

Fighting off dizziness, Harry looked up to watch Hagrid take on the dog. Hagrid clobbered his
huge fists against the dog's head like a seasoned boxer, and the animal staggered backwards
each time it absorbed the blows. It tried to jump forward to bite Hagrid, but it couldn't.

“Sorry fer being late, Harry,” Hagrid said, swinging his arms and knocking the hapless dog with
a series of punches. “I cudern't fit through the portal easily coz I was teh big!” Soon he
wrestled with the dog like it was a cuddly little pooch.

“Aughhhh!” Sirius screamed. Harry and Lupin snapped their heads towards his direction and saw
Lucius giving him the Cruciatus Curse.

“Sirius!” Harry yelled.

“Expelliarmus!” Lupin shouted, and Lucius' wand flew off, breaking his spell against Sirius.
The Death Eater instinctively ran for his wand at once; Harry shot off a few spells against him but
unfortunately missed. Lucius had just recovered his wand when Harry heard Hermione's
scream.

“*Harry!*” she shrieked. Wormtail had Hermione, and he was dragging her up the stairs in
the act of getting away!

“Oh, my god!” Harry said, his heart skipping a bit. “Hermione!”

“Infernus!” Lucius shot back, making his wand a small flamethrower. Harry and Lupin sought for
cover but could not find any and Lupin's tattered robes had caught fire! Lucius laughed while
Lupin frantically tried to kill the fire around him in panic that was dangerously growing. Harry
knew Lupin needed his immediate help and attempted to conjure a spout of water to kill the fire,
but he forgot how to.

Lupin was burning; Hermione was in trouble. Confusion reigned in on Harry. He danced on the spot
not knowing what to do.

Fortunately Hagrid had tamed the huge dog, removed his mole skin coat, ran over towards Lupin,
and covered him up with the coat to put out the fire just in time before Lupin got some serious
burns. Harry then caught a glimpse of Lucius pointing his wand at them and he shouted, “Look
out!”

Hagrid faced Lucius bravely and a few stunning spells bounced of his front. Harry thought the
little giant was going to fall over them so he pulled Lupin away just in case. Hagrid, however,
became even more furious with Lucius and he advanced towards him. Lucius looked extremely shocked
upon seeing that his spells weren't having any effect against Hagrid, and he opted for his
ultimate weapon. “*Avada…*”

Since the killing curse required him to say the incantation longer than usual, Lucius had no
time to complete saying it. Hagrid had reached him, grabbed a wide-eyed and screaming Lucius by the
neck with his left hand, and gave him a walloping uppercut with the other that sent him flying up
and backwards. When Lucius landed on the floor, he was out cold.

“That'll teach yeh not teh piss me off!” Hagrid growled satisfactorily over the unconscious
Malfoy. He then turned to Harry and said, “I've been wantin' teh do that fer a long
time!”

“Harry, go after Wormtail - I-I can't!” Lupin told Harry, wincing in pain because of his
burns.

Harry quickly nodded and ran towards the stairs. He knew that Hagrid could not fit into the
stairway from the looks of it and Sirius was hurting from the Cruciatus Curse so bad. Harry was all
to himself. He didn't care if he'd face Voldemort again - he didn't want to lose
Hermione to the Death Eaters or him.

The stair was short and soon he had stepped on to the ground floor in a large room made of stone
connected to the Main Hallway. Harry looked around with his wand out. There was a large doorway at
a distance; finding there was no other way out of this room but the door, he concluded that it was
where Wormtail may have gone to with Hermione and he ran nearer towards to cross it.

Before Harry entered the next room, he got to the side of the doorway and pressed himself
against the wall. Wand extended, he peeked around the threshold for any signs of resistance. It was
dark and spooky at the other room, which was identical to the area and height as the last one. A
wide circular, mossy altar with a stone sculpture of a unicorn being attacked by dark creatures
over a small pond was at the center, illuminated by a white eerie glow with no apparent source of
light. Harry looked up and saw that the next room was bounded by narrow mezzanines and supported by
many wide circular columns lining up at both sides. Harry suspected that the mezzanines were the
perfect place for anyone who'd be waiting to ambush him and he was in constant anticipation for
any form of attack.

Harry knew Wormtail had been gone for a long time and may have gained a comfortable head start,
but he didn't want to walk into an ambush. Such cautiousness didn't serve him well for his
part, but Harry had no choice but to be wary of being reckless or he'd never be able to save
Hermione if somebody would succeed in taking him out. He didn't walk through the center of the
room so he cautiously walked beside the walls. The only sound he could hear was the running water
of the altar. There were no other doors in sight.

At the center far end of the room stood a thirty-foot stone sculpture of a beast he never seen
before in his life. It had feet of a bull, a body of a lion with eight long protruding limbs of a
spider, a hairy torso of a human like that of a centaur, but its head was the scariest thing he had
seen in his life. It had seven red eyes, three horns, and a large mouth with the sharpest of fangs.
Harry shuddered to think that something like that would be alive on this earth, and snatched his
gaze away from it. The last thing that he noticed was an engraving on stone, which read: “Vahaul”.
He ignored it, not knowing what it was about, and turned his concentration back on his task
ahead.

“Wormtail!” Harry called. His voice echoed around the large room but he got no answer. He kept
walking along the walls and heightened his alertness.

Soon, he heard a low laugh. Harry looked around to see where it came from but he didn't see
anyone.

“Who's there?” Harry shouted. “Show yourself.”

“Do you really care for your Mudblood friend, Harry?” the voice echoed. Harry immediately
recognized whose voice it was: Voldemort's.

Harry gripped his wand tighter. “Why??? Do you have her?” he said.

“Yes,” Voldemort's voice replied. “And she's waiting for you…”

“Then I demand you release her to me!” Harry yelled.

Voldemort's laugh rang around the room and it was followed shortly by Wormtail's. A
bright spotlight shined on one area near a faraway wall opposite the altar and Harry could see
Voldemort standing beside an excited Wormtail. Harry walked a few steps nearer to them but stopped
at a safe distance from them and just a few feet before the altar.

“I knew you'd come looking for her, Harry,” Voldemort said. “It was the only way to bring
you to me after being tried to be rescued by your other friends. Wormtail made a good decision
after seeing my Death Eaters almost losing against your side to bring the Mudblood to me as bait.
You've slipped away from me too many times, Harry. Tonight you won't survive this last
meeting of ours, I will make sure of that.”

Harry heard a very loud rattle from the direction of the doorway and thick steel grilles slammed
down on the ground shut. That was apparently the only way out of this room and he was trapped.
Harry glared back at Voldemort, faced him, and went into a ready posture to duel him. However, a
spell had hit Harry from his side and he slumped on the floor with intense pain. He looked up and
around from the floor. It neither came from Voldemort nor Wormtail who were laughing directly at
his front. Harry glanced to his side and let out a sob when he learned Hermione was the one who
cursed him.

“H-Hermione,” Harry gasped. Voldemort had possessed her again, and Harry saw she had not worn
her protective earmuffs that were supposed to block the words that activated the serum. He
didn't even recall ever seeing her wear them at all when they joined the scientists in their
dash to freedom.

Harry didn't want to fight her. If he would have it, he couldn't bring himself to hurt
her with offensive spells. But what could he do when she wasn't herself and didn't mind at
all to curse him? Harry picked up his wand and struggled to stand up, hoping that he didn't
have to curse her. However, he knew he had to make a choice very soon.

Voldemort laughed. “She's mine, now, Harry,” he said. “She will become wand fodder to this
new war against my enemies as she's a Mudblood, an emotionless robot with no fear of injury or
death. Such is the power of my serum and soon I'll have more servants like her who'll
follow no one but Lord Voldemort! Attack him, Mudblood!”

“*Expelliarmus!*” Hermione shouted, and Harry flew back by the force of the disarmament
spell, denying him of his wand. He landed painfully on the floor and gazed straightly at Hermione,
who wore a very frightening face while keeping her wand pointed at him. Harry realized he
didn't have to be a gentleman - he had to protect himself against her now. He hoped it
didn't get to the point where he'd inadvertently kill or maim her.

“*Petrificus…*” Hermione started, but Harry had stood up quickly, fighting the pain
throughout his body, and shoulder-rolled to the side to dodge the spell. Harry had gotten closer to
his wand. He snatched it off the floor and pointed it back to Hermione.

“*Petrificus Totalus!*” he bellowed at once after he found his balance.

“*Protego* *Tria**!*” Hermione had shouted at the same time.

Harry's curse bounced off Hermione's impenetrable shield. She released it and quickly
yelled, “*Lartigo!*” The long electrical cord sprang from the tip of her wand; she spun her
wand in one fluid motion and guided the glimmering whip to snap it towards Harry.

Harry scrambled for cover behind the altar; Hermione's whip caught the water spout, which
was the unicorn's single horn, and shredding it to a thousand pieces.

“Impressive, Harry,” Voldemort laughed. “We'll see who's going to prevail between the
two of you. Do the unforgivable curses on Harry, Mudblood. I order you!”

Hermione nodded at the direction of Voldemort and returned her attention to Harry, who was bent
low behind the altar away from her. Hermione narrowed her eyes with her wand pointed to the ground
and walked around the altar to try to catch Harry out of cover. Harry had never seen her look this
dangerous in his whole life, and it wasn't very comforting.

“Hermione! Please, it's me, Harry!” he said, attempting to talk her out of it even though he
knew it was an exercise in futility. She just kept on hunting for him.

“That will not work, Harry,” Voldemort reminded him. “She will only obey me…”

Hermione kept rounding the altar, and Harry knew if he kept on countering her he will expose his
back to Voldemort in a short while. He had to do something fast! He didn't know what went into
his mind, but he made a very hasty decision and he whipped around to run for a nearby pillar with
his back to her. Hermione made a few sidesteps, aimed her wand carefully to the fleeing Harry, and
shot a piece of shimmering rope to his feet. The rope caught him squarely around his ankles and he
fell down forward on the floor painfully. His wand had rolled way ahead of him.

Voldemort laughed again. “Good move, Mudblood! How foolish of you to run away like that, Harry.
Have your pathetic teachers ever taught you that you should never turn you back against your enemy
when dueling?”

Harry rolled upright and tried to remove the tight rope on his feet but it was firmly bounded by
it. He couldn't find a way to take it off his legs. Harry then struggled to crawl towards his
wand, which lay more than three yards away from him. Hermione walked casually towards him, her wand
kept pointed.

“Do the curse, Mudblood!” growled Voldemort. “Make it nice and long!” Harry's eyes went
wide, knowing what was coming.

“*Crucio*!” Hermione growled.

Harry had experienced too much of this curse but he couldn't help but yell in pain each
time. He cried for Hermione's name, pleading in the name of Merlin to stop giving him the
excruciating curse, but it fell on deaf ears. After a full minute, Hermione cut the curse, leaving
Harry sobbing and groaning on the ground.

“Good work, my servant, I'll take it from here now,” Voldemort told Hermione, and she backed
up a couple of steps away from Harry. Voldemort strode slowly towards him.

Fighting intense lingering pain, Harry desperately crawled on forward for his wand. It was
almost within his reach, but Voldemort brushed it further away from him with a flick of his wand.
Harry looked back and stared up at him, looking defeated.

“You've irked me for too long, Harry,” Voldemort said calmly. “Too long. I shall not spare
you this time…you must die now…”

“And I won't spare you, too, if you'll go on to succeed killing my student, Tom,”
Dumbledore warned.

Voldemort snapped his head towards Dumbledore whose eyes was literally on fire. Wormtail shook
upon the sight of him and hid behind his master.

“How did you get in here?” Voldemort snarled. It was the very first time Harry had seen fear
drawn across his terrible face.

“It's not important how I got in here, Tom,” Dumbledore replied, now raising his wand at
him. “What is important is how *you'll* get off of my wrath unscathed!”

“*Crucio!*” Voldemort shouted, but at the same time Dumbledore had vanished, sending the
curse off to the far wall. A split second later Dumbledore had reappeared behind Voldemort, caught
him in a fiery whip from his wand, and hurled him across the room. Voldemort disapparated before he
could land back on the floor from high up above. Dumbledore ignored Hermione, who was just staring
forward listlessly.

Voldemort had apparated back in a new position at a distance behind Dumbledore sending a series
of tiny lightning bolts against him in quick succession. Dumbledore calmly conjured a thin shield
in front of him that deflected all the projectiles away.

“Is that the best you can do, Tom?” Dumbledore taunted him. He then waved his wand around the
air, leaving a blistering red and sparkling light in its wake.

Voldemort may have known what Dumbledore was about to do because he backed away. “To my front,
Mudblood!” he ordered Hermione.

Whatever it was he was doing, Dumbledore perhaps could not stop the spell because eyes had
widened when he saw Hermione suddenly walking in the line of fire. With one more flick of his wand
and changing its light from purple to blue, Dumbledore released his spell. A jet of bright blue
beam zoomed out of his wand and hit Hermione squarely on her chest!

“NO!!!” Harry screamed when Dumbledore's spell enveloped Hermione with a brilliant blue
force; she shook uncontrollably while several balls of light spun around her rapidly like electrons
of an atom. Hermione was the nucleus and several rays of light shone out of her.

Voldemort laughed from behind Hermione, knowing that Dumbledore had killed her; Harry yelled her
name while Dumbledore looked on at the spectacle in front of him very seriously.

“*Headmaster, what did you just do*?” Harry cried at him. “She's innocent!”

However, Dumbledore didn't listen to Harry. He raised his wand again and pointed it back to
Hermione. With a mutter of another spell, Hermione's light connected with his wand and it
seemed to absorb everything out from her. A bright ball of blue light lingered on the tip of
Dumbledore's wand, becoming suddenly more intense. At the same time Hermione fell down to the
floor, the bright blue ball of light went off like a bullet, crossed above Hermione's sprawled
body, and slammed violently against a disbelieving Voldemort.

Harry rubbed his eyes to adjust with the now diffused surroundings. When he opened his eyes,
there was no sign of Voldemort in the room anymore. The first thing he cared to do was to skip
leg-locked towards Hermione, who was slumped on the floor immobile.

Wormtail shuddered upon realizing that his master wasn't around him anymore. Dumbledore
snapped a dangerous look at him and he fled in panic instantly.

“H-Hermione, please don't be dead…speak to me, please!” Harry cried when he reached her,
lifting her head up to rest on his lap. He then looked around for Dumbledore, who was walking
calmly towards him. “WHAT DID YOU JUST DO, SIR?!?” he yelled the question a second time.

“She will be allright, Harry, I assure you,” Dumbledore told him calmly, dropping down on one
knee, and feeling Hermione's forehead. “I chose to use her reserve mana to magnify that spell
against Lord Voldemort. I admit it's not a gentlemanly way to do so, but the spell needed the
mana of another witch for it to be effective.”

“Then she's not dead?” Harry breathed.

“No, Harry. She will be allright and will come to when she regains strength. I wouldn't want
to use that spell if I knew it would hurt her so.”

Harry blew out some air from his lungs, knowing that Dumbledore told him that with sincerity.
“O-Okay, sir. What about Voldemort?” He said, looking around for him.

“I sent him in another dimension,” Dumbledore replied. “Temporarily, at least, just enough time
for us to vacate Xanthius.”

“I wish you would have killed him then, sir…” Harry muttered.

Dumbledore just sighed and said, “If I was as evil as him, I would have killed him on the spot.
But there are - valid reasons - why I can't. I will let you know in due time. Come - let's
start evacuating this fortress before he returns…”

Harry nodded and started to carry Hermione by his arms, but Dumbledore squeezed Harry's
forearm. “It's better if I do that…you're hurting and…*Snipendo*!” Dumbledore cut the
tight rope around his legs with a zap of his wand.

“Th-Thank you, sir,” Harry sighed. Dumbledore then bent down, lifted Hermione with his arms, and
began walking out of the room. The steel grilled door was still shut, but when Dumbledore went near
it, a large part of it went invisible.

So this was how the Headmaster had walked in the closed room undetected, Harry thought. It
amazed him how simple it was for Dumbledore to think of things to go around obstacles. They walked
through it like it wasn't there.

“Can we destroy Xanthius before we get out of here, Professor?” Harry hoped loudly while he
walked alongside him.

“I wish, but that would take loads of time, Harry,” Dumbledore replied when they went down the
stairs leading to the pit. “There will be other opportunities to attempt that but I'm more
concerned about your and the other's safety back at Hogwarts now. Hermione needs immediate
medical care to ensure she's in good health, and Madam Pomfrey is standing by to accept her and
the injured once we step back into Hogsmeade.”

“Dumbledore, we need to get out of here now!” Sirius said when they met at the pit. “Ramius said
he can only hold the portal in a short time.”

Dumbledore nodded.

When Sirius and Harry saw each other, they hugged together very tightly. “I'm happy
you're all right, Harry! I became worried when word flew you were kidnapped…”

“I'm glad you're all right, too, Sirius,” Harry replied. “But I won't be until
Hermione does…”

“Yes, I know how you love her…”

“Have the others gone through the portal, Sirius?” Dumbledore asked him.

“Yeah. All except for me, Nettleson, Hagrid, and his new pet. We were waiting for you to come
back. Everybody else suffered some sort of injuries and they're being treated by Madam
Pomfrey.”

“Good. Where's Lucius?”

Sirius laughed a little. “Whipple insisted they be arrested, so we pushed them through the
portal, too. We didn't get my `dear' cousin Bellatrix - she came back from dreamland
quickly and dissaparated before we could catch her again.”

“Bloody hell!” Harry cursed.

“The feeling's mutual, Harry,” Sirius said, and he pursed his lips.

Just then, they all heard a howling sound echo throughout Xanthius.

“Voldemort's back, and he's angry - we must go,” Dumbledore said calmly. Harry and
Sirius knew they had to get out at once or else things would get nasty again.

They walked up a transparent stair leading up to the ground floor from the pit, and they met
Hagrid and Nettleson anxiously waiting for them beside the glowing portal.

“Blimey! Wha' happened to little Hermione?” Hagrid howled. “Oh, I can' look at her…” he
said, looking away.

“She'll be okay, Hagrid,” Dumbledore assured him. “See you at the other side…”

“We'll be righ' behind yeh, Headmaster,” he said, sobbing. “Harry…”

Harry just nodded at him, looking apprehensive about the possibility of Voldemort holding them
up again. Sirius let him cross the portal first. When Harry emerged at the other side, there were
many people shivering and waiting for them under the cold evening sky. Ron was one of them.

“H-Harry!” he yelled, running over towards him and embraced him. “You okay?” he said. Madam
Pomfrey, however, broke them up, pushed Harry down on an empty chair, covered him up with a thick
blanket, and began examining him without saying anything.

“Yeah, I'm okay Ron, thanks,” Harry replied to him, looking over Madam Pomfrey's
shoulders. “But Hermione needs medical attention - she's hurt…”

Ron grabbed his own head with both hands and he looked extremely worried. Dumbledore then
appeared at the portal, carrying Hermione over his arms. “Madam Pomfrey,” he called, “I'll
bring Harry to the hospital wing personally - Hermione needs the most urgent attention.”

Madam Pomfrey placed a hand over her aching chest and conjured a floating stretcher instantly.
She didn't wait a second too long to rush Hermione towards the hospital wing when Dumbledore
had place her on top of the stretcher.

“What happened to her, Harry?” Ron asked him, still awfully worried.

“Loads,” Harry simply answered him, looking pale.

“You both look really beat up back there,” Ron said. “I got really very worried when you and
Hermione both disappeared through that portal with the Death Eaters after that dog
stampede…Arghhhh!!!”

Hagrid and his new pet, the Hybrid dog that joined in the fray at the pit back in Xanthius,
squeezed out of the portal. It wasn't only Ron who screamed, but most of the people around,
too.

“Oh, I see you've met my new pet, Garth!” Hagrid said brightly to everyone. “Don't be
afraid, he's one li'l gentle pooch, he is. Look at him!”

Garth panted in front of Hagrid excitedly.

“Gentle?” Whipple said incredulously, who was lying on a stretcher on the ground behind the wall
of people. They stepped to the side to allow him to see Hagrid. “Gentle? He almost trampled poor
Trevor Colby to death and bit my leg off and you say he's tender?!?”

“Well, that was before I tamed him,” Hagrid shrugged. Garth sat down beside him and licked his
hair, leaving a big blob of saliva all over him. “Ain't you cute you li'l mongrel?” he
cooed at him.

“Headmaster,” Harry said, standing up from his chair when Dumbledore went over to him with
Sirius (he had changed into a black dog before crossing over the portal). “I-I just remembered
Hermione's still under the influence of the serum - we need a real Death Eater to say the
counter-phrase…”

“I've already arranged for that, Harry,” Dumbledore smiled, lifting a gentle hand towards
him. “We've got just the right man to do that…”

“Who?” Harry asked, bewildered. He gazed over to Lucius Malfoy and several of Voldemort's
top henchmen who were still out cold and bounded on the snow. Harry looked back at Dumbledore,
doubting if they will ever cooperate with them. “Them, sir?”

Dumbledore shook his head and whispered to Harry beside his ear, “Professor Snape.” Dumbledore
drew back and winked at him.

Harry exhaled and nodded at him. He hoped Hermione would soon snap out of her mesmerized state
and they will be reunited as soon as possible.

“Harry, you need to report to Madam Pomfrey at the hospital wing as soon as possible to clear
you for injuries,” Dumbledore told him. “Snuffles will escort you back to Hogwarts…and Ron,
too.”

Ron smiled at Dumbledore, and Harry grinned at him gratefully.

“And after you're finished being treated, I'm going to have to ask you to go to my
office immediately. We need to talk about your experience with some people who're waiting for
you there. Do you understand?”

“Yes, sir,” he replied.

“Right, then, a carriage is waiting to take you to Hogwarts,” he said. “People, let us through
please, medical emergency,” he told the curious crowd milling around them. “You will learn about
what happened the next morning, I promise, so good night.”

Ron led Harry and Sirius through the groaning crowd towards a waiting carriage pulled by what
Harry described as a skeletal horse that he had seen for the first time. When he stepped inside the
carriage, he heard a whooshing sound. He looked back, and didn't longer see the portal where it
was standing anymore. The gates to Xanthius had been closed, hopefully for good. Harry, however,
had a strong feeling that he had not seen the last of it.

Ron was the last to get in the carriage. He sat in front of Harry and Sirius then closed the
small door and the carriage jolted in motion. Harry looked out and he caught a glimpse of Lupin
being loaded on a stretcher and waving at him. Harry smiled slightly, nodded at him, and waved back
at him as a sign of thanks for helping bail him out of Xanthius. Harry breathed, leaned back on his
seat, and opened his eyes to see a concerned Ron staring at him.

“I'm all right, Ron,” he said softly, smiling.

Ron nodded slowly. “I'm sorry I wasn't there for you and Hermione, Harry,” he said
apologetically. “I wish I would've suffered along with you - I'm such a bad friend.”

“Oh, please don't think about that, Ron,” Harry said gently with no air of bad feelings in
his voice. “I'm glad you didn't, because it would've been hard to see you suffer, too.
That doesn't make you a bad friend like you think…the Death Eaters just got me and Hermione and
it wasn't your fault.”

“I should've tried harder to take you back before you crossed that portal to You-Know-What…”
he moaned.

“No matter how much you tried, Ron, we were already through it and the Death Eaters made sure
you couldn't stop them,” Harry smiled. “But thanks for trying to save us back there…there were
lesser Death Eaters to reckon with back at Xanthius because of it and it made a huge difference for
us.”

Sirius panted with agreement.

“You're welcome,” Ron grinned. “Next time, I'll be around for the trio for sure. I
won't be a prat anymore to you. You can count on that!”

Harry grinned at what Ron told him, but it then flickered when the carriage passed by Hallen
Rodd's lifeless body, which was on top of a cart pulled by a horse and covered in part by a
canvass. Harry pulled out his wand slowly and sadly, and raised it high to his front as a sign of
respect and tribute to him.

“Goodbye and thank you for everything, Hal,” Harry muttered.

-o0o-

When Harry, Ron, Sirius, and Dumbledore stepped foot inside the hospital wing, Hermione was
already awake. The moaning Auror Trevor Colby had been wrapped by casts from head to foot and Tonks
was sitting up on her hospital bed.

“Wotcher, Harry!” Tonks said. “You okay?”

Harry smiled back at her, nodding his head. “I hope you are, too,” he said.

Hermione had heard Harry's name being mentioned, turned her head over her pillow to look at
him and smiled though she looked very sleepy. “Hi, Harry,” she said weakly, “Don't worry,
it's me now…”

Harry went over to her bedside, squeezed her hand, proceeded to place his head gently on top of
her forehead and kissed her. “How're you feeling, love?”

“Groggy,” she replied, grinning. “Hi, Ron!”

“H-Hi!” he said.

“I'm very glad we're back in Hogwarts safely, Harry,” Hermione sighed, “after that
terrible nightmare with Voldemort...I'm sure I'll never forget it as long as I live…”

“I know the feeling,” Ron commented.

“I know. The last thing I remember before I saw Snape scowling down over me was Wormtail
throwing me to the ground and hearing Voldemort's voice…” she added with a breaking voice. “I
know he controlled me again - what I don't know is what I did…”

Ron looked visibly confused. “What's she talking about, Harry?”

“I-I'll explain everything to you later, Ron, I promise,” Harry replied. “It's a long
story, but you do need to know about it.” Harry then returned his attention back to Hermione. “We
dueled,” Harry told her mildly. “You gave me such a nasty Cruciatus Curse but I know I can't
blame you.”

Hermione grimaced, feeling guilty again. (Ron said “Whoa!”)

“What else? Oh, Harry, I'm so sorry for everything!”

“Loads, but what's done is done, Hermione. What matters is we're back safely -
especially you - and we're far away from Voldemort's influence for now…”

Hermione nodded but she knew she had not seen the last of Voldemort. He may be planning
something more sinister to do next against them as they spoke. “How did we even get away with
him?”

Harry told her how Dumbledore saved them from Voldemort's clutches and what he did to her
before banishing Voldemort to another dimension temporarily. Hermione understood at once what spell
Dumbledore used against her and Voldemort because she had naturally read about it.

“Talk about hitting two birds with one stone,” Hermione said, nodding her head in comprehension.
“Brilliant move, Dumbledore did.”

“But he attacked you, didn't he?” Harry said.

“Not really,” Hermione replied, making a lot of effort to push herself upright on her bed. “It
looked like an attack on me but it wasn't. He used the Phantom Charm - wizards sometimes use
it, but most of the time it's a desperate move to get out of a duel. You use another wizard or
witch's mana to make it as powerful as you can make it to send your enemy to another magical
dimension - for a limited time, that is - to give you time to escape. Of course, I lost
consciousness and Dumbledore rendered me harmless without hurting me. The only problem is I just
need to recharge my mana for a couple of days, but I don't mind, really. I approve of what he
did…”

“Cool,” Ron said. “Stunning would be a little offensive, you know, and it sometimes hurts to so
it makes sense. Dumbledore didn't want to think he did something to hurt any one of you. But
one thing that still amazes me, Hermione, is how you could still explain things clearly like a
teacher even if you look like you're stoned…”

What Ron said gave Hermione a reason to smile.

“Luckily, Voldemort didn't see it coming,” Harry added. “Sometimes I think it's his
weakness - he gets so smug about everything that it gives his opponents a rare chance to
outmaneuver him with a simple spell.”

Madam Pomfrey came out of her office and walked towards Harry. Without saying any word she
suddenly grabbed Harry, shoved him over to another bed beside Hermione's, and pried his mouth
open to examine his throat even though she had already done this back at Hogsmeade.

“I-I think I'm okay, Madam Pomfrey…” Harry said stuffily.

“I say you're not!” she yelled. “Not until I say so otherwise…you stay on the bed while I
grab a few potions for you to drink.” She whipped around and walked hurriedly to her storage
room.

Harry sighed deeply and Ron sat down at his bedside, patting his arm. “What else did Madam
Pomfrey tell you what to do, Hermione?” Harry groaned.

“Bed rest,” she simply replied. “Just a few little bruises all over, but no serious damage,
fortunately.” Hermione looked around like what she was going to say was a big secret and said
quietly to Harry “Did Francs make it here alive?”

“Yeah,” Harry nodded. “But I don't know where he is and Willard.”

“I met Willard out of the portal,” Ron told them. “We talked for a while but then they asked
Snape and some Aurors to escort them to Hogwarts immediately. I don't know why.”

“Maybe they didn't want to lose time starting to produce an anti-Serum,” Harry hoped.
“Amazing Snape didn't shun them.”

“I'd like to think Dumbledore told him not to refuse them,” Hermione grinned. “Or else…”

“Oh, well,” Ron shrugged. “I've been hearing you talk a lot about some kind of a serum but I
still don't have a clue what the bloody hell it is, but I'll just wait to hear your story
soon, Harry.”

“Remind me sometime…”

“Then that means I still have it,” Hermione moaned. “I hope they'll discover an anti-serum
soon and I'll roll up my sleeve at once for it…”

“Not until it's proven safe, Miss Granger,” Dumbledore said, walking over to her from the
door. Remus Lupin went in by stretcher next, and he looked like he was in extreme pain because of
his burns. Several students were peeking curiously right through the doorway and Dumbledore closed
it with a wave of his wand.

“Oh, don't worry about Professor Lupin,” Dumbledore said. “Essence of Murtlap will do the
trick in no time - how're you feeling, Hermione?”

“Fine, but a little flimsy, thanks,” she smiled.

“Mr. Wraskon and Dr. Girbeaux have immediately started toiling away to produce the antidote for
Voldemort's terrible serum,” Dumbledore announced. “I've been in the potions lab and they
are very confident they will perfect it within a week after doing a series of tests to ensure it
will be safe to administer to victims.”

“A week?” Harry and Hermione moaned.

“Yes, unfortunately, but they're happy they have identified the last ingredient already. At
the meantime, you must remember, Hermione, that you still have the potential to be possessed by any
Death Eater until you take the antidote. However, I will ensure that no more Death Eater will ever
infiltrate Hogwarts ever again. It's high time we review the magic around Hogwarts - the last
time it was overhauled was during the time of Headmaster Dippet. Nevertheless, as long as
you're here, you're safe and you can forget about what's running in your veins.”

“That'll be a little hard to do, sir, but I trust you,” Hermione said.

“Oh, I have something for you.”

Hermione wondered what Dumbledore had for her. The Headmaster took out a long box from his robe
pocket and handed it to her.

“Oh, Headmaster, you didn't have to buy me a new wand…” she said, blushing.

Dumbledore merely smiled at her and said, “Just open it…”

Hermione's draw dropped.

“What is it?” Harry asked, craning his neck to see what was inside from his bed.

“I don't believe it!” she said hoarsely. “It's my wand!”

“Are you sure?” Harry asked her. “But you left it in the throne room…”

“I'm positive…Headmaster, where did you find this?”

“From Cassius Wallace,” Dumbledore replied.

“Wallace? The Death Eater?” Hermione frowned.

“Actually, Ramius Palkov,” Dumbledore chuckled. “He's an animorphagus and took on the
identity of Cassius to infiltrate Xanthius. He's our only agent there and we're happy his
real identity has not been compromised despite all what happened there. We still have the real
Cassius Wallace with us, and thanks to Olga, they've squeezed a lot of juice from him in her
hideout. I must ask you to keep this as our deep secret - after how you were involved with
Xanthius, I felt you deserved to know what we're doing against Voldemort.” He winked and Harry,
Ron, and Hermione nodded.

“Hear that, Tonks?” Remus yelled from his bed.

“Yeah, yeah, I'll watch my mouth from now on,” she said impatiently, scratching her
head.

“So, it was actually Ramius,” Harry said slowly. “But why didn't he help us - I saw Wallace
when we were brought to the throne room…”

Dumbledore nodded. “Well, his orders were to keep his identity secret at all times and ignore
anything he saw that would compromise him. He's the only mole we have in Xanthius, but he
couldn't ignore you at all when he saw you were captured by Lord Voldemort. He risked
everything to hold the portal open and informed us he had you. I was just in Hogsmeade with Remus
Lupin all the time, at the Hogshead cellar where Sirius stays when he visits Hogwarts. Remus is a
difficult man to control sometimes, but he often has good judgment and we're lucky that he did
this time though I already asked him not to do it again. He even went into a little adventure on
his own in Xanthius and helped the scientists plan to escape.”

“I should have known it was him, but of course, how could I? I really didn't have a clue
anyway!” Harry laughed, and then he sighed.

“Something bothering you, Harry?”

He sighed again and nodded. “Sir, I just thought…I'm very sorry for goofing again this time
- if I had been extra careful we wouldn't have been brought to Xanthius…”

“Me, too,” Hermione added. “I got caught off guard…I shouldn't have let them inject that
serum into me at the first place.”

Dumbledore smiled slightly, looking back and forth between Harry and Hermione who looked visibly
ashamed at him. “If those are the reasons why you're both feeling that you've put
yourselves, me, and all of the people that care for you down, it might surprise you that I say
they're not really valid enough reasons to feel bad about.”

Harry and Hermione looked at Dumbledore at the same time.

“First of all,” Dumbledore went on, walking in between Harry and Hermione's bed, “Voldemort
and his henchmen are the only ones to blame for everything bad that happened to you both lately.
They willed this to happen, Harry, to bring you to Xanthius with any means necessary. In this case,
they did think of something wicked and novel to make that a reality and they went into lengths to
abduct many good scientists to produce their serum. Whatever precautionary measures you and I were
taking, especially when we're clueless about their plans, they will make sure they succeeded.
So, Harry, please don't keep on thinking that you could have prevented your abduction in
Xanthius if you have just been extra careful. Didn't I tell you before that even the wisest
wizard can be hoodwinked by Voldemort?”

Harry nodded. “Yes, sir. I understand.”

“Hermione, it's not your fault if the Death Eaters invaded you house in the dead of the
night to inject you with the serum. They caught you while you were sleeping peacefully, and
it's nothing to be ashamed of. Henry Seymour talked about everything after he was arrested via
Veritaserum. He told us everything, including how they succeeded in possessing you. I am really
shocked about them doing that - it's a despicable act invading your privacy, much more
administering some drug to you against your will. So, please, don't ever think that whatever
happened to you recently you will be responsible. Victims can't choose what their victimizers
would do to them.”

“Okay, thank you, Headmaster,” Hermione said, and Dumbledore smiled at Harry and her
broadly.

“To make feel better further, and I tell you this in truth, that in my opinion despite the
terrible things that you have both experienced under Lord Voldemort's captivity, this recent
adventure of yours did do something good for our side.”

Harry, Ron, and Hermione stared at Dumbledore, bewildered. “What could anything be good about
it, sir?” Harry asked.

“I wish you went through everything with no injury - both physical and emotional - but I know
that's impossible when you come face to face with Lord Voldemort. But Willard Wraskon told me
what you did back there. I felt very proud after hearing his story. Thanks to your efforts, several
of the scientists, and most importantly Francs Girbeaux, have succeeded in escaping Xanthius. They
were woefully unmatched against the Death Eaters with their spears and clubs. You supported their
escape with magic, and that made a huge difference. If not for you, they would have all been
slaughtered. If that happened we will never know how to counter Lord Voldemort's serum. We will
all have lost against his new weapon. The likelihood of the serum to take control of the whole
wizard world is not farfetched. I cannot imagine then how we would ever defeat that threat…”

“But the anti-serum hadn't been discovered yet, Professor,” Harry told him. “What we did
might not have any significance then.”

“Mr. Wraskon and Dr. Girbeaux know that they've done it, Harry,” Dumbledore smiled. “The
only thing that they will do now is to ensure it won't create negative side effects, but
that's only a very minor thing according to them. We will have our safe antidote in a week and
Hermione will be treated with it soon.”

“I'm looking forward to it, sir,” Hermione grinned. She yawned and sank deeper down her bed.
“I feel itchy each I remember I still have it. So, what do we do now?”

“I say you rest,” Madam Pomfrey said, bringing over some flasks of greenish-blue potions. She
gave Harry and Hermione each. “Except for Hermione, Harry can drink the potion and he can leave the
hospital wing. Exertion and stress can exacerbate some relatively harmless effects brought by the
Phantom Charm - but they're effects nonetheless and I don't like discharging Hermione from
my hospital wing until I'm satisfied she has a clean bill of health!”

“That means don't try to argue with Madam Pomfrey, Hermione,” Dumbledore winked at her.
“It's stress, too.”

Hermione arched her lips and blew up a few strands of her bangs.

“As far as I'm concerned Hermione's problem with her amnesia attacks had been gone for
ages,” Madam Pomfrey added. “Quite unfortunate it coincided with the effects of this serum and we
thought she still had her amnesia attacks…drink up, Potter!”

Harry swallowed his potion and coughed because it was extremely bitter.

“Can I now bring Harry to my office, Poppy?” Dumbledore asked. “Cornelius Fudge is waiting for
him there.”

“Fudge?” Harry repeated.

“He asked for a chance to interview you about your experience in Xanthius. After the fortress
revealed itself to everyone, he had no more excuse to deny its existence.”

“I see there's no reason to keep Harry here much longer,” Madam Pomfrey. “He can go,
Headmaster.”

“Thank you,” Dumbledore said. “Come, Harry, I'll escort you to my office.” They both began
to walk out of the hospital wing.

“See you around Harry,” Ron and Hermione both said at the same time.

Dumbledore stopped and looked at Ron. “Do you want to go with your best friend, Ronald?” he
asked, his eyes twinking.

Ron stood up from his seat at once. “You bet!”

“Just tell me what you talked about there, guys,” Hermione told them disappointedly.

“Mr. Weasley,” Dumbledore said after glancing at a sad-faced Hermione. “It's okay…”

Ron knew at once what Dumbledore meant. He dug up half of his Extended Ear and placed it on
Hermione's night table. “You won't miss out with the discussion with this,” he grinned.

Hermione smiled back at him from ear to ear.

-o0o-

“Hello, Harry,” Cornelius Fudge greeted him humbly when he went inside the Headmaster's
office with Dumbledore and Ron. “I hope you are well…”

“Good evening, Minister,” Harry said, picking up a chair to sit upon Dumbledore's signal.
“I'm fine now, thank you.”

Aside from Fudge, his administrator Horace Whipple (who was sporting a large cast from elbow to
wrist on his right arm and standing on a crutch on the other side), Minerva McGonagall, Snuffles
(Sirius' alias when he became a dog), and a shamefaced Percy Weasley were present in the office
(much to Ron's extreme annoyance).

“After all I did for this school, the employees of the Ministry, and the public in general,”
Fudge said, “it's difficult for me to admit I made a very costly mistake on how to treat the -
warnings - of You-Know-Who's return and the existence of his fortress. I should have not denied
anything and rejected your story about it. I know I made things very difficult for an undetermined
number of people. For this, I offer you my sincerest apology for ever doubting you, Harry.”

Harry glanced at Dumbledore who was now seated behind his desk. Dumbledore gave him a curt nod
and big smile.

“I accept your apology, Minister,” Harry said sincerely. “But, really, I understand how hard it
was to accept the fact that Lord - I mean, You-Know-Who - had really come back.”

“Yes, yes, that's right,” Fudge muttered, and he looked grateful after Harry accepted his
apology. “But it does not justify the confusion and hardship I caused for the wizard world by
killing the - rumors as I've called them. What's worse, I didn't know I assisted the
Death Eaters, especially Lucius - damn that traitor - in paving the way to you. How stupid of me of
letting myself get used for their sinister plans.” He shook his head with real disappointment.

Harry just kept silent.

“Where's Malfoy, now, anyway?” Fudge asked Percy.

“Mr. Malfoy is being transported back to London for interrogation, Minister,” Percy replied.

“Good, good,” Fudge said. “I'll have a word with him - I'll give all his bribes to the
Ministry to charity - won't say who's money it is.”

“That would be a good idea, Cornelius,” Dumbledore said.

Fudge grunted and nodded. “The ominous appearance of You-Know-What for all to see just this
afternoon was indisputable proof of You-Know-Who's return. His voice was heard all over the
wizard world in Britain…”

“How're the people taking it, Minister?” Harry asked.

“Not well, I'm afraid,” he replied gloomily. “We're helping mobilize the volunteers who
want to fight You-Know-Who, but to me not everyone wants to risk being identified as part of the
effort to defeat him. They're still scared of retribution from the Death Eaters. Not until
everyone's convinced we could fight against You-Know-Who will they consider it bravely.
There's a looming new war and the Ministry is working overtime to counter the terror of
You-Know-Who.”

“Does this mean school's closed?” Ron asked Fudge hopefully.

“In your dreams, Mr. Weasley,” McGonagall replied for Fudge. “Classes will go on and you will
have your OWLs as scheduled at the end of the year.”

Ron groaned but then shrugged it off.

“Harry,” Fudge said, “could you please testify to us what happened back at You-Know-What the
first and second time? If it's okay…”

Harry looked at Dumbledore for guidance, and he got another nod. Harry knew it was a long story,
but it seemed they had all the time in the world to hear his story. It was refreshing for Harry to
talk about his experiences with the wizard world's elected leader, the Minister of Magic, who
now was ready to believe what he was going to tell him. Before this, the Minister's mind was
closed to any suggestions of Voldemort's return, but many things happened in a short span of
time for everyone to see that he could no longer keep denying it. Harry knew they were allies now,
not enemies.

Harry talked about everything in vivid detail to Fudge, including how the Death Eaters had
infiltrated Hogwarts and how they led Harry and Hermione to Xanthius. Fudge was very attentive, and
he kept nodding while Harry told him his story. After almost an hour, Harry had finished.

Fudge took off his glasses, wiped the lenses with a soft cloth, and sighed deeply. “Your story
jibes with Henry Seymour's confession through Veritaserum about his activities and his
information about the names of other Death Eaters in the Ministry, Harry. Oh, Williby, did you take
down everything Harry said?”

“Yes, Minister,” Percy replied very slowly.

Fudge nodded. “Good,” he said, facing Harry again. “Harry, don't you know Seymour told us he
was the one who murdered Professor Russelpunk?”

Harry breathed. He was afraid it was Hermione who murdered Russelpunk under the influence of the
serum from the way she talked about it back in Hogsmeade, and he was relieved she didn't have
blood in her hands. He had a strong suspicion it was Seymour or Burton, but he didn't have any
proof then.

“No, sir,” Harry replied.

“Seymour confessed that he killed Russelpunk because he found out the professor took out his
Death Eater paraphernalia in the trunk at his office,” Fudge explained. “We don't know how
Russelpunk knew that Seymour was a Death Eater, but he seemed to have been obsessed with stealing
some kind of a souvenir and Seymour wanted it back fearing that he will be unmasked as a Death
Eater. What's strange is Seymour told us that Russelpunk expected Seymour to kill him and he
didn't do anything to defend himself, thus, he was murdered.”

Harry thought that was indeed strange. Did Russelpunk have some kind of a death wish? But this
proved one thing, though. Russelpunk was no Death Eater after all.

“Then does this mean Professor Dumbledore's cleared, sir?” Harry asked.

“With the confession of Seymour, Albus was innocent all along,” Fudge confirmed to Harry. “I was
bent on pinning you with the murder I refused to believe otherwise. Seymour made me dance on his
palm - I'm awed by Albus' sacrifice to own up to the crime just to save you, Harry. How
stupid of me for being too hard to all of you. I'm so sorry.”

“Minister,” Percy said, “I think you have already apologized once too many…”

“Leave me alone, Weatherbee!” Fudge snapped at him. Percy hid behind his notebook quickly and
returned to recording the minutes of the meeting. Ron laughed quietly.

“There are still other disturbing developments happening around the wizard world,” Fudge
continued. “The Dementors of Azkaban have abandoned their posts just after the fortress emerged
from obscurity and it is very likely they have joined up with You-Know-Who. Several imprisoned
Death Eaters have escaped, including the Lestranges.”

“I've been Bellatrix in You-Know-What, Minister,” Harry told him. “But I didn't see any
Dementors there yet.”

“Yes, I expected her to return to You-Know-Who,” Fudge nodded. “The Dementors have been wreaking
havoc already, sucking souls along the way with the Kiss. Additionally Several murders have taken
place under the Dark Mark, and there are reports of Muggle Borns helping the Death Eaters with
security while they do their dirty work. You-Know-Who's forces are getting more bold and
dangerous…”

“The serum's proliferating,” Dumbledore suggested.

“My suspicions, too,” Fudge said darkly. “Furthermore, the top potions masters Becca Cunningham
and Rudy Roberts are still unaccounted for. The surviving scientists swore that they had never seen
them anywhere while they were held prisoners. I suspect You-Know-Who still has them and are using
them to produce more of the serum, or worse, for other projects. I hope Wraskon and Dr. Girbeaux
can make the anti-serum in time and we'll have to produce and stockpile some supplies.”

“They're on to it, Cornelius,” Dumbledore assured him.

Fudge sighed again and looked straight at Dumbledore. “After realizing how bad a job I did in my
incumbency, I recognize the fact that I'm not a good Minister of Magic and I'm not up to
the task in leading the war against You-Know-Who. There are other persons in the Ministry who are
fit to lead us as Minister of Magic, so I'll be handing in my resignation to the Winzegamot
tonight, Albus.”

Everybody except Dumbledore and McGonagall looked surprised with his announcement.

“Are you sure what you're doing, Cornelius?” Dumbledore asked him gently.

Fudge glanced on the floor, straightened up, and nodded. “Yes, I'm sure. I can no longer
lead the people when my credibility is destroyed. Tomorrow we will have a new Minister of Magic,
and I will humbly offer him my full support whoever he will be.”

“It's a courageous thing that you're doing, Cornelius,” Dumbledore said, standing up and
offering him a handshake, which the Minister took. “Would you like for us to work together against
Lord Voldemort? You have the wisdom and experience that we need.”

Harry didn't know what Dumbledore meant about Fudge having great wisdom. For him he was a
blunderer, but as always, Harry always believed Dumbledore knew better than him and he respected
his opinion even how awkward it seemed at the surface.

“Thank you, Albus, but I'd rather fade into the back of controversy and I respectfully
decline your offer.”

“Very well, Cornelius, I understand,” Dumbledore smiled. “I have no hard feelings for you - you
were just misled. You were a just victim of Lord Voldemort's like the rest of us.”

Fudge flinched finally, and smiled back at Dumbledore gratefully.

Whipple sighed. “I'm co-terminus with the Minister, so that means I'll be going back to
a private life. It's been an honor working for you, Minister.” Fudge nodded at him.

“Mr. Whipple,” Dumbledore said after considering something for a long time. “We've lost
another Defence Against the Dark Arts Teacher five years in a row and I was wondering if you're
interested with the job? You seem to be good with defensive magic.”

Whipple bore it in mind for a moment and said, “Thank you, sir, I'll think about it.
I'll inform you about my decision by tomorrow, is that fine by you?”

Dumbledore smiled and said, “I appreciate it.”

“I'll just convince Horace the job's really not jinxed,” Fudge offered. “To me all the
teachers' bad luck for the last five years are purely coincidental.”

“I'd rather die with a curse than an empty stomach if that's what you want to hear,”
Whipple said, winking.

Fudge said goodbye to everyone, especially to Harry, and they all started to leave.

“Harry, could you stay for a moment?” Dumbledore said to him. “Ronald, you may stay if you
wish.”

Harry looked at Ron, who merely shrugged at him.

“What is it, Professor?” Harry asked him gently.

“I have something to give you - a present from the recently deceased,” Dumbledore said morbidly.
He bent down from his chair, opened a drawer, took out a small maroon box, and placed it on top of
his desk.

“From the deceased, sir?” said Harry, bewildered. “From who?”

“Professor Russelpunk.”

Harry stared at him.

“He kept a journal of his own and wrote a small request to me that whatever might happen to him,
he wanted you and Hermione to have his diary. He gave the note to me a few days before his death. I
can't help but think he knew what would happen to him, because like Cornelius has said,
Russelpunk waited for Seymour to go after him and didn't do anything to stop him from taking
his life.

“He had always been interested on both of you from the very beginning, as he was always been
asking me about you. You will find out why in a short while. The diary contains very useful
techniques on how to fight the Dark Creatures after he spent years researching about the Dark Arts.
I've read through it and I can attest to you that you will find it very useful. Even I am
surprised of the many things I haven't learned yet. I hope you will be kind enough to share his
legacy to the school.”

Harry opened the thick book and saw many detailed notes about fighting the dark arts, their
characteristics and weaknesses, and more. Harry didn't understand why Russelpunk never brought
his knowledge up in his disastrous classes. They were very interesting subjects written in his
diary and it could have been excellent for lessons.

“I don't get it - why would he specifically want me to inherit this book, sir?”

“Page 503, paragraph one,” Dumbledore replied simply.

He opened the book to the specified page. The passage read:

*I am fully convinced that these two students in my fifth year class* *are the gifted and
chosen ones who will* *have the power to* *defeat the Dark Creature**, a creature
more terrible than the one that plagues the land the second time,* *as* *it was
foreseen* *by our Fathers.* *They have shown and proven* *to me their qualities as
heirs to the Twin Pendants of Omerta.* *As the* *B**ringer of the* *Twin
Pendants, declare that m**y mission is done and their destiny* *will soon be
fulfilled.*

A scribbled note in Russelpunk's handwriting at the left margin read:

****To Harr**y and Hermione, you are the heirs* *mentioned here**, as
I've judged**.* *Search your* *inner self to learn how* *to use* *the
Twin Pendants* *and please do use its powers* *wisely.*

*By the* *time* *you receive this* *I've already left and* *I*
*will never come back again.* *I cannot avoid my fate. It has been written and it will have
come to pass.* *My lifelong work is* *done with my discovery of you* *and it heralds
the end for me**.* *I am sorry I didn't introduce my true self to both of you
fully.* *May the aura of Omerta be with you - always.*

Harry didn't know what he and Hermione did to make Russelpunk conclude they were the ones
who he had been looking for, for whatever it is they were expected to do. The message looked like
it was incomplete. And what or who was Omerta?

Russelpunk never mentioned how the so-called pendants can be used and what they looked like. He
didn't even expound on their so-called destiny. Additionally, it felt weird for Harry to
picture Russelpunk as someone who was secretly in on a secret mission, a mission apparently so
noble as it was written in this diary that it didn't fit the person he always portrayed out of
his shell. Harry could not even help but think this was a sick joke from Russelpunk.

“Professor, is this some kind of a joke?” he said.

“To tell you the truth, Harry,” Dumbledore said, looking uncertain, “I hope it isn't.
I'm not aware of such prophecy - this is something very new to me and interests me the most.
But perhaps this so-called destiny of yours is known only to a very secret society that we are
meant to discover it only now. Some prophecies do fulfill themselves in their own way and maybe
this is how it was meant to be. For the meantime, please allow me to help search for the answers
for you and maybe we could find something out. I do have my sources to consult, and they may shed
some light about Omerta. Omerta…I don't know, but I've got a feeling I stumbled on this
name before.”

“Okay, thank you, sir,” Harry said. “We'll do our share…”

“My mind is buzzing…” Ron commented, putting a hand over his aching head.

“Did you take everything from the box?” Dumbledore asked Harry. “There are two smaller ones in
it. I suggest you open it.”

Harry took out two small boxes the size of a medal case. He could not open the first one no
matter how much he tried, and he proceeded to the other. It opened easily with flash of light, and
Harry saw a thin gold necklace with an elaborate pendant in half. Harry suspected that the other
half of the pendant was inside the other box, and maybe it could be opened by somebody else.
Perhaps, Hermione?

“Who do you think the Dark Creature is, Professor?” said Harry. “Voldemort?”

“If you read between the lines, it says a `creature more terrible than the one that plagues the
land the second time'. The way I see it, Voldemort may be the lesser one. This is his second
coming, and he plagues the wizard world with terror. There must be another one even more terrible
than Lord Voldemort, but to tell you the truth, I find it unfathomable.”

Harry found that hard to believe, too. What or who could be more terrible than Lord
Voldemort?

“There's still one thing I think Professor Russelpunk wanted you to have.” Dumbledore told
Harry. He handed Harry a moving picture of Russelpunk with his arms around Harry and Hermione. On
it, a phrase was written: “*Shine* *radiantly*, *my special heroes*.”

“It is now my belief, Harry,” Dumbledore said after a moment of silence, “that Professor
Russelpunk was destined to meet you for some very special reason and he wasn't the person we
all thought we knew at the surface. Because of this, I am convinced all of that you might find in
his diary owes to be taken seriously. This may be the start of something magnificent and you need
to prepare yourselves for your destiny, whatever it is. I will help you.”

Harry nodded, and he felt extremely guilty for treating Russelpunk like a traitor before he
died.

-o0o-

*Next: Epilogue.*

*A/N: If you notice**d**, this chapter has something in common with Order of the
Pheonix. I really liked that* *part in the book in the Department of Mysteries.*

*I hope you enjoyed this chapter. I will post the final chap very soon, just before the
30**th* *of December. Thanks!*

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23. Epilogue
------------



**Chapter 22:**

**Epilogue**

**He-Who-Must-Be-Named Returns!**

**Dark Fortress Confirmed!**

**Cornelius Fudge Resigns!**

*The entire Wizard World yesterday* *afternoon* *witnessed the return of
He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named when his mythical Fortress,* *officially* *called the Xanthius,
revealed itself for* *the first time for* *all to see.*

*Thousands of people looked on in trepidation when* *the Xanthius emerged out of the
ground* *followed by* *strong quake* *at noon yesterday. Thousands of Wizards and
Witches went into panic, causing injuries and the disruption of commerce for the rest of the
day.*

*“It's just horrible!” cried Rupert Quibble, President of Quibble and Sons, Inc. in Diagon
Alley. “I always believed* *the Minister* *it was the figment of* *the imagination
of the* *conspirators* *like he said**, but* *look! I**t's really*
*up* *there on top of the horizon.* *I can see it* *with* *mine eyes!*
*Everywhere we go we will always see it the same way - from London to Dublin, it just looks the
same. It just doesn't get smaller* *even* *how much you get away from it, like
it's watching you all the time!* *The fortress is so spooky with* *all* *its
black clouds and lightning. I think the term `spooky' is a gross understatement.* *I*
*just* *don't know what'**s going to happen to us, but I'm thinking of
fleeing to Australia* *or maybe Canada**…**”*

*He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named's voice was heard around the wizard world at the same time
Xanthius reveal**ed itself**, as* *it was* *conf**irmed by the Ministry of
Magic. The wizard world* *is now plunged into* *a state of fear as no official
advisorie**s from the Ministry of Magic have* *yet been issued r**egarding this
terrible event**.*

*Ministry spokesmen have* *confirmed that the Ministry itself is in a state of chaos
brought about by the resignation of Cornelius Fudge as Mini**ster of Magic.* *The
situation in the London bureau is sketchy. In the meantime, o**ne official* *from the
Ministry* *told the Daily Prophet* *this regarding Cornelius Fudge sudden
resignation:*

*“It can be recalled that the former Minister had recently imposed sweeping measures to
prevent* *`**rumors**'* *of You-Know-Who's return to spread, but with
his return now revealed and* *that it* *cannot be further denied, Mr. Fudge decided that
he had failed the wizard world in preparing for such eventuality and* *saw himself not fit to
further serve as Minister of Magic because of it, thus he tendered his resignation.* *The
Winzegamot will convene in an emergency meeting tonight to elect the new Minister of
Magic.**”* *(**From the* *Editor: The new Minister of Magic has been*
*elected* *late last night* *by the Winzegamot* *in the person of Amelia Susan
Bones)**…*

*In a related development, stock prices plunged on late trading when investors unloaded their
shares immediately on fears of economic collapse brought about by the imminent chaos that would
follow with You-Know-Who's return (story in page 5).*

“There ye have it,” Hagrid said to Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Sirius in his hut the next day in
the late afternoon. “Finally they've all found out about You-Know-What but unfortunately it
doesn't look good out there. Pretty ugly in some parts…just like the old days but much more
terrible.” He shook his head and threw his copy of the Evening Prophet in to the dining table in
front of him.

Harry and Hermione were both cuddled on Hagrid's oversized seat while Ron sipped on some hot
soup near the fireplace. Even though they were all vindicated with Voldemort's revelation to
the wizard world, they weren't happy this was happening at all, either. But they knew it was
best when everybody knew about the truth. It was more dangerous if it was the opposite.

“What else have you heard, Hagrid, from out there?” Harry asked.

“The same o'l story - chaos and fear everywhere!” Hagrid groaned. “But it's calmed a
li'l for now - I think most of the wizard world now seems to like the choice of Bones as the
new Minister. Ain't she the mother of a student here?”

“Yeah, Susan Bones - she's our classmate from Hufflepuff,” Hermione replied.

“Ar, with almost the same name. I hope she's up to the job…”

“She's okay, I hear,” Sirius said, walking over to the boiling cauldron to have a second
helping of Hagrid's hot soup. “Dumbledore approves of her appointment, actually. He knows
she's a very open person, and very strong in leadership.”

“I'm glad they chose a woman to lead us this time…” Hermione commented.

“Having someone with good leadership sounds encouraging, too,” Harry said, stroking
Hermione's hair. “But I think it would take more than a new Minister of Magic to deal with
Voldemort. I reckon it would take no less than total unity for all wizards to stand up and fight
against Voldemort and maybe we might have a chance to defeat him this time.”

“Yeah, that's right,” Sirius agreed. “Many, though, are still in a state of denial about
this, even if the proof is staring right down on their faces. I guess this is just temporary,
anyway, and they'll all snap out of it and do something about it for a change. The problem with
wizards nowadays is they just rely on the Ministry of Magic to take care of them. It's woefully
undermanned and they won't be able to protect everyone at the same time.”

Everybody murmured in agreement.

“I wonder how Willard and Francs are doing with the anti-serum now,” said Hermione. “I can't
wait for them to finish, but I don't want them to make something half cooked either…”

“It's finished, I hear,” Sirius answered. “They're just making sure the anti-serum is a
hundred percent safe for people to use before they start injecting it. Wraskon's especially
concerned about you, Hermione, because he knows you're Harry's best friend. He just wants
to be certain your skin won't turn green with it.”

Hermione giggled.

“They already have a name for the anti-serum, too,” Sirius added.

“Oh?” Harry said. “What do they call it?”

“The Hallenrodd Potion. You know where they got that, I'm sure.”

“Yeah,” Harry sighed. “Nice choice. That would immortalize Hal in some way - at least his death
won't be forgotten.”

“I think the best bit is that they're using Henry Seymour and several of his Death Eaters as
guinea pigs,” Sirius told them. “Dumbledore said Bones didn't mind that at all because she
knows its for the good of the wizard world and she hates Death Eaters. Seymour had been injected
with the exact version of Voldemort's serum *and* the Hallenrodd Potion. What's even
better is that Snape is on the experiment…”

“Snape's been injected with the serum, too?” Ron said hopefully.

“No, but I wish he was,” Sirius laughed. “Anyway he can't hide his bitterness with being
ordered around by Wraskon and Girbeaux to say the same words over and over all day - Domini,
Vox-Domini…He can't complain - Dumbledore expects him to fully cooperate with Wraskon whether
he despises it or not.”

“Demoted to a lab assistant, isn't he?” Harry grinned with satisfaction and everybody
laughed.

“Oh, Harry,” Sirius said, “I'm very sorry for not responding to your letters even for
once…”

“Oh!” Harry said. He completely forgot about that in the middle of what happened during the last
few days.

“I still have them with me, but you know, it's almost impossible writing back to you being
stuck as a four-legged dog for days here in Hogwarts under Dumbledore's request.”

“I-I understand, Sirius. It's okay, really,” Harry said.

“Which reminds, I have to turn into a dog now - someone's coming…”

Harry looked out the window and saw Neville Longbottom dragging his feet on the deep snow. The
door knocked and Hagrid opened it. “Hullo, Neville!”

“Hiya, Hagrid,” he replied.

“What brings you here?”

“I'm looking for Harry and Ron. With Fudge quitting, the clubs are back and there's a
new one about Defence Against the Dark Arts forming in the dungeons. I wanna ask them if
they're interested - first meeting's in fifteen minutes…”

“They're here,” Hagrid told him, and he led Neville inside the hut.

“Hey, Harry, wanna come?” Neville asked him.

“Uh,” Harry started, and Hermione pressed her nose on his cheek, reminding him of something. “I
think I'll pass…”

“How about you, Ron?”

“Well…okay - I think it won't hurt to see what it is and I'll decide if it's good
then.”

“Cool! Let's go, then,” Neville said happily.

Ron thanked Hagrid with his unusually tasty soup, bid goodbye to everyone, and went out of the
hut with Neville.

“See ya, Ron,” Hermione said after him. He looked back at her and winked.

Just before Hagrid closed the door, an owl flew in and delivered Harry a letter.

“Hey, who's that from?” Hermione said, looking at the envelope.

Harry cut the string off the owl's legs and the bird flew out immediately. It was from
Stephanie. Harry glanced at Hermione to see how she took it. She just smiled at him and he opened
the envelope.

*Dear Harry,*

*I can't put into words how thankful I am to you for helping save my Uncle from
You-Know-What.* *I had a very happy surprise* *last night when I got a letter from him.
He wrote about what happened and I just couldn't stop crying while reading i**t. Dad
was* *simply overjoyed he could**n't stop dancing all night! Our prayers have been
answered**, and I know that without you I* *would never see my beloved Uncle
again.*

*At the same time I feel real* *bad about what you've gone through* *in
You-Know-What**. I hope you and Hermione are all okay now back in Hogwarts. Please extend my
love to her - we have only been together for a short time but it's like I know her already.
She's very nice and I hope we could all be together again soon.*

*I'm back at Westwall and* *I have made up with my lost lessons. The people here are
scared, though, but we're striving to keep things as normal as we can. We can see You-Know-What
from here like it's just a few miles away from wherever we are even though it's said to be
in Scotland. I promise I'll keep you posted of* *how we are and* *what we'll be
doing here to prepare against You-Know-Who.*

*Again, I want to thank you deep in my heart for taking back my Uncle. It's joy beyond
what I can explain, so thank you, thank you, thank you!*

*Always,*

*Stephanie (and Dad)*

*P.S. Please remember I owe you a lot!*

Hermione sighed. “I'm glad she's out of her misery now,” she said. “She was always
preoccupied worrying about Willard back in the Burrow.”

“Just about the good news we have during a time like this,” Harry remarked, though he felt real
happy for Stephanie. “We need all of it as much as we could get.”

They heard a loud thud at the back door of the hut. Hermione jumped a bit and Sirius growled at
the door.

“That's Garth,” Hagrid said. “I think he's hungry again…” He looked at Harry who was
visibly frowning. Hagrid knew Harry most likely disapproved of keeping him as a pet after what he
went through with the dog back in Xanthius.

“I wish you'd give him a chance, Harry,” Hagrid said slowly. “He could come in handy someday
- Dumbledore agrees so, as a matter of fact…”

Harry sighed. “Sorry about that, Hagrid. But I'll try. For now, he still reminds me of some
real unpleasant memories.”

Hagrid just smiled at Harry and he went over to the kitchen to prepare Garth his fifth meal of
the day.

“I think it's time for us to go back to the castle, Hagrid,” Harry said, standing up with
Hermione. “See you around - and thanks for the soup!”

“Sure, Harry,” Hagrid grinned. “Anytime you want!”

Hermione waved goodbye to Hagrid and to Sirius, too, who waved back at her with a paw. When she
and Harry walked a few feet from Hagrid's hut they both felt warm air wafting behind their
necks. When the looked back, they yelped a little when they saw Garth's huge head staring down
at them. At first they felt threatened about being this close to the animal, which they have seen
as wild and dangerous only yesterday, but then the dog breathed heavily, stuck its mouth out, and
wagged its tail at them to look surprisingly harmless.

Harry at first was inclined to shun the dog, but then he gave in when Garth gave him a miserable
look and a sad sound.

Hermione put her arm around Harry's shoulder. “I think he's asking you to forgive him,”
she said, smiling. “Let bygones be bygones, like. He really does look he wants to be friends with
you.”

Harry hesitated for a moment, looked up at the sad looking dog, and finally gave in. “Yeah, he
does, doesn't he?” Harry smiled back at Garth and patted his big wet nose. “He probably never
knew what he was doing back there - I think you'll be okay from now on, Garth.”

Happy, Garth licked Harry lovingly with his huge tongue from Harry's belly up to his head,
drenching him. Harry closed his eyes for a long time feeling awfully disgusted.

Hermione said “Yech!” playfully at Harry and she laughed at him. Soon, Harry laughed along with
her; Garth barked once and ran back to Hagrid who was brandishing a big slice of dragon meat.

“Wasn't that cute of him to do that?” Hermione laughed, patting Harry with some snow to help
wash off Garth's saliva.

“You'd probably think differently when you're in my shoes,” Harry chuckled. He took out
his wand and pointed down to snow. Several snowballs formed in midair and he grinned at a wary
looking Hermione. The snowballs flew towards Hermione but she ducked and Harry got hit instead.

Hermione pointed her finger at Harry and she laughed hysterically at him. Refusing to leave
without getting even on her, Harry grabbed Hermione and wrestled her to the ground. She kept on
laughing and threw bits of snow on Harry's face, but gradually her laughter subsided when Harry
simply looked down at her and smiled. Their smiles faded shortly; Harry slowly moved his lips
closer to hers, and they kissed without letting go for a long time.

When they broke up their kiss to inhale some air, Hermione sighed and looked up at Harry. “What
a great time to fall in love with you,” she told him, with a hint of sarcasm, though
humorously.

Harry laughed a bit. “Yeah…but remember this - not even Voldemort will take us apart - I promise
you that…”

“Me, too,” Hermione smiled. “I'm now starting to think how I could live without you
Harry…”

“I won't let that happen,” Harry replied, beaming down on her, “because I would never leave
you.” He reached inside his pocket and took out a small medal case.

“What's that?” Hermione said curiously. “Hey, that looks like you medal case from
Dumbledore…”

“I couldn't open it - not even Ron or anybody else. I thought I'd try it out with other
people before I'd give it you…just to make sure if Russelpunk was right about us…”

Hermione took it slowly from him and, as Harry had thought all along, she opened it successfully
without any effort. The snow was bright but the light that shone from the box when Hermione opened
it was even more brilliant. Inside it was half of the pendant he had from Russelpunk.

Harry breathed. If it was only Hermione who could open it, then Russelpunk may have been right
about what he thought of them. Harry then knew he was serious about their so-called “destiny” for
which he and Hermione still had to find out about.

“Is this the pendant of Omerta from Russelpunk's diary?” Hermione asked, staring at the
medallion at the box and looking surprised. “Did you…”

“Yes, I opened the other box,” Harry told her, “and I have the other half.”

Hermione exhaled deeply and she looked worried. “Oh, Harry, what does this mean?”

“That means we're both going to be in deep shit again someday,” Harry said bluntly.

“I'm a little scared…I've got a little problem with the unknown…”

“C'mere,” Harry sighed. He pulled Hermoine closer to her and embraced her. “I'd be lying
if I said I wasn't because it's something that we don't know about yet - yeah I think
we do have the same fear - you're not alone. We got to find out about everything with this
Omerta thing - I think it's important we need to prepare ourselves, don't you think? But
Dumbledore says it's something magnificent though he doesn't have a clue about it…”

“Then I hope he's right,” Hermione said softly.

“I believe as long as we're together we'll be all right,” Harry assured her. “I'll
protect as long as I live.”

“Thanks, Harry, and you can count on me, too. You're right - we'll take on one threat at
a time like we did before. I hope Ron wouldn't get out of place with this in some way - we
still need him as much as he still needs us.”

“He won't - he said he'll always be one for us.” Harry took out Hermione's
medallion, put it around her neck, and hid it under her robes. “I'm wearing mine, too. Whatever
this pendant does for us, I hope it'll be for the good of all.”

They heard footsteps on the snow coming nearer to them. Harry thought it was Ron but he was
surprised when a hand forcibly grabbed the back of his robes and he was thrown away to the
snow.

“What did you do to my father, Potter?!?” Draco shouted. Crabbe and Goyle rounded up on Harry
next. They grabbed him up from the snow together and held him by the arms in front of Draco. He
then approached a struggling Harry and pointed his wand closely at him.

“Draco!” Hermione shrieked. “*Let him go this instant!*”

“Shut the bloody hell up, you despicable little Mudblood!” he spat.

“What do you want with me, Draco?” Harry growled at him, doing his best to break free from
Crabbe and Goyle but they were too strong for him. Crabbe grabbed Harry's hair and yanked his
head upward; Harry didn't take his eyes off from Draco though he felt some pain on his neck as
it was pulled backward forcibly.

“You're gonna pay for what you did to father, Potter,” Draco growled, looking deranged with
the tip of his wand on Harry's chin.

“He didn't do anything with your father, Malfoy! Let him go!” Hermione shouted at him
(Hermione couldn't use magic on him because she was still recovering from her lost mana). She
bravely strode towards Harry and tried many times to pry him loose from Crabbe and Goyle, but she
was only pushed away by them. Goyle laughed.

“Where's Lucius now, Malfoy?” Harry said. “In Azkaban? He wasn't so tough at all, was
he, Hermione? Screamed like a scared kid in a tough neighborhood, he was,” Harry taunted.

“You're wrong about my father, Potter! He's the bravest wizard of all, and so am I
because I'm his son - I'm not afraid of you, scarhead!”

“Then what's with your goons, then? If you're not afraid of me, tell them to let me go
and I'll gladly duel you.” Crabbe punched Harry at the stomach and he wheezed out of breath
down to the snow.

“That does it, Malfoy!” Hermione yelled and then charged at him. “You're gonna pay for
that.” She, however, stopped on her tracks when Malfoy pointed his wand at her.

Malfoy laughed. “What're you going to do with me, Mudblood, slap me?” he drawled. “Move back
or I'll curse you.”

Hermione gulped and stepped back a few steps but said, “If you curse one of us, you'll be in
trouble in Dumbledore, Malfoy!”

“I don't care for that anymore, Mudblood! I'm here to take back on Harry for my father
and I'll make sure Potter will be disfigured for the rest of his life!”

“Malfoy…no…” Hermione warned slowly; Draco pointed his wand at Harry's nose to curse him as
he threatened.

But suddenly Draco's contorted face had turned into one with pure terror. He whipped around
and fled from Harry without doing a single curse on him. Crabbe and Goyle dropped Harry to the
ground next and ran behind the hysterical Draco. Hermione ran toward Harry and helped him up and
they both stared at their fleeing backs, bewildered with their sudden change of heart.

“Now what was that all about?” Harry said, brushing off his robes from snow. He and Hermione
heard something running from behind them and they looked back anxiously. They quickly held into
each other when they saw Garth running toward them and looking very angry!

Garth jumped over Harry and Hermione, landed on the snow, and went into hot pursuit with Draco.
Harry and Hermione both hung their jaws with amusedly seeing Draco stumble on to the snow and
screaming at the top of his lungs staring helplessly at the huge dog that was bearing down on him.
At last, Garth had caught up with Draco - he took a big bite on Draco's robes, shook and
waggled him up high into the air, and ran off with him toward the castle. Crabbe and Goyle howled
in grief running after behind them.

Harry and Hermione laughed uncontrollably.

“T-That was nice of Garth to do that,” Harry panted. “I got to give him a big juicy bone
someday…”

“Serves Draco right!” Hermione snorted, feeling victorious even without raising a finger on
Draco. “We'll watch out for him the next time - I don't know if was serious with his threat
to maim you for life, but we'll be ready for him.”

“Amen to that. C'mon, let's go back to the castle,” Harry smiled, choosing to shrug off
Draco's latest attack on him though he kept on enjoying watching Draco flail his arms and legs
wildly under Garth's breath at a distance. Hermione laughed again, wishing Draco had now peed
on his pants, or better yet, soiled on it. She and Harry both hoped Garth wouldn't let go of
him until the next morning. They put their arms around each other and resumed walking together back
to the castle.

“I've really had it with all this excitement - I just want to cuddle up with you at the
Common Room for the next hundred years,” Hermione said.

Harry nodded his head appreciatively at Hermione for his sweet remark. He also knew that he,
too, needed a much deserved long and peaceful break. However, he thought that was wishful thinking
under the new terror of Voldemort though he didn't want him to dictate to them with what to do
with their lives. Life must go on, of course, he thought. The only question was *when will he
strike again*? He shrugged that thought off. He will just have to be ready for him.

Halfway to the castle, Harry and Hermione saw the form of Xanthius at a break of the tall trees
from the forest. The setting sun was now beginning to hide behind the fortress that had an
unusually clear sky on that part of the horizon. They both stopped walking and they took a long
look at the fortress, which seemed to look quiet and serene from their point of view.

“What do you suppose will happen next, Harry,” Hermione whispered. “Will Voldemort ever bring us
back to that terrible place?”

“I don't know, Hermione, I honestly don't know,” Harry sighed. “But we'll be ready
for Voldemort whatever he'll do next, won't we?” he said while looking at the direction of
the fortress. “The next time we set foot on Xanthius, it will be the time when we're going to
destroy it!”

“Yeah…” she sighed, hugging Harry very tightly. “Yeah, we will. Raze it to the ground, we
will.”

After one more look at Xanthius, Harry gazed at Hermione and smiled at her. Both of them
believed not even Lord Voldemort could take apart the new love they have felt for each other. Their
eyes met once more, and they gave each other a very long and meaningful kiss as the sinking sun
cast upon the both of them the long shadow of the Dark Fortress.

**THE END**

**Shadow of the Dark Fortress** **(Part 2)****: The Xanthius**

By Triggy

December 24, 2004

*Author's Notes:* *Well, it's finally finished at last!* *I hope you*
*really* *have* *enjoyed reading this story!* *Criticism is still welcome, and if
you have some comments, or maybe reminders on some unresolved plot points of this story that I may
have missed, please let me know. Thanks!* *A funny thing happened just afte**r I typed
“The End”. I felt sick,* *ran to th**e toilet**,* *and threw up**! Well, I
know it's not* *because of* *the story, of course,* *(oh, well, maybe some*
*of the unknown* *readers do feel the same way about it, haha) but because of* *the
chicken* *or scallops* *I ate for lunch that were* *probably bad!*

*I wish to thank all the people who* *spent time to read this story in Portkey.Org.! (The
hits counter is really handy).*

*Special thanks goes for these great people who reviewed* *while the story was in
progress**:*

**Muirnin**

**Hermione's REAL Twin**

**Becca Angelic**

**SEK19005**

**Ridxwan**

**PottersPrincess**

**Arun**

**LadyBlazey**

**Musique**

**Gal-Txter**

**Thieving Magpie**

**Andy B**

**RetroRose**

**Scott**

*More t**hanks to those who reviewed multiple* *times!* *(You are the
best!)*

*I would also li**ke to thank m**y friend Belinda whose* *HP* *fanfic*
*story was the inspiration for* *this second part of the series!*

*Also* *very big thanks* *goes to* *the mods in Portkey.org for their support.
I really appreciate the attention they had given to this story (including the first part) and for
letting me in as a member/author in Portkey.org:* **NAPPA, Gal-Txter,** *and the*
**Thieving Magpie***. A big special thanks for the* **Thieving Magpie** *for
recommending this story* *and the first part* *in the recs forum**!*

*I shall start Part 3 when I think I would have substantially gathered some good ideas for it
though the* *general plot has* *already* *been laid out**.* *For the
meantime, Please allow me to take a break from writing - I'll be reading and reviewing the many
HP fics found here at Portkey.org* *for now**.* *I ho**pe you will still be
here then. Thank you very much!*

*Until next time,*

*Sincerely,*

**Triggy** *(My real name is Rei).*

*Oh, I just noticed it's Christmas Eve! A Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year to all! Let
there be peace on Earth and for all mankind!*

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